Trouble Follows
by LyricalKris
Summary: There's no such thing as happily ever after. Life is a struggle, a mixture of sweet and sour. This is a story about loss, the power of love, and relearning how to accept everything you are. A sequel to Trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**Dedication: I have always believed that there is something amazing about every single person. There's no such thing as a person without value. However, some people are absolute gems. Packy is one of those people. She is beautiful, compassionate, and giving-hey! She's totally Carlisle. I told her a while back I wanted to write something for her, and when she heard my plot bunny for our Trouble boys, she chose this story.**

 **Soooo…. she literally asked for it.**

 **Packy, thank you for everything. You're a gem, and you're a gift.**

 **A/N: My boys! Despite my abhorrence of sequels, I found I wasn't ready to let them go. This story is a sequel to Trouble, though it is a very different story. As always, if you have questions about what may or may not be coming, please feel free to contact me. I'm always open for discussion, especially if your comfort is at stake.**

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"Strip."

A spark of electricity traveled from the top of Edward's head all the way down to his tailbone at the simple command. He could have made a smart assed remark, but he'd been instructed not to speak. There would be consequences if he spoke, so he bit his tongue, determined to be obedient. He locked eyes with his Dom, his husband, holding his gaze as he began to take his clothes off. Socks. Shirt. Pants. Underwear. Until he was nude and vulnerable.

The whole time, Carlisle sat in his chair, legs crossed. His left hand was poised at his chin. He held a crop with his right hand, and as he watched Edward, he tapped it against his leg. The light thwack of leather against fabric sent shivers down Edward's spine. The whole time, Carlisle's eyes never left him. They were hungry eyes but cool. Controlled. Calculating.

"Kneel," Carlisle said, his tone steady.

Edward knelt on the plush carpet, moving into the familiar position: arms clasped behind him. He waited.

"Spread your legs."

Edward obeyed, spreading his knees wide, sitting tall.

Carlisle let him stew a full minute before he moved. He stood up and took measured steps toward him. Edward held his breath. Internally, his thoughts were racing. What would it be? Would he grab Edward by the hair, pull his head back and push his cock past his eager lips? Would he kneel in front of him? Tease him with fingertips that tickled, that brushed instead of grabbing, stroking, satisfying?

The thwack of the crop against Carlisle's leg-louder now that he was standing so close-made Edward jolt. A whole new flurry of possibilities sprang to mind, and his cock stiffened.

Carlisle chuckled. "Excited about something, pet?" he asked, running the tip around Edward's belly button, so close to where he wanted it, and yet so far.

Edward licked his lips and nodded. He bit his lip, swallowing a groan as the crop teased his skin. Carlisle moved the crop up the center of his torso and around, around, around each of his nipples.

So it was going to be slow, slow torture tonight then. Edward wanted to groan. He was already worked up. He wanted Carlisle to order him onto his hands and knees and for him to bring the crop down in a relentless rain. He wanted him to pull him up, bend him over the couch, and pound away.

He took a deep breath, swallowing down impatience, and let his Dom guide him.

Carlisle traced the shape of his collarbone before he propped the crop under Edward's chin. He pressed, and Edward tilted his head up, locking eyes with him. A sexy grin spread slowly across Carlisle's face, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he began to move again, stepping around him. Edward was careful to keep his head tilted up as he waited.

There was a rustle, and Edward started again when he felt the cool slip of fabric against his skin. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at himself. His every nerve was aware, tingling with anticipation, but Carlisle was simply blindfolding him.

That done, Carlisle knelt behind him. The heat of his breath against his neck made Edward's skin tingle. How desperately he wanted to lean back, to feel his Dom's body against his. But he waited.

Carlisle positioned his arms so rather than clasping his hands at opposite wrists, they lay one on top of another. It took Edward a minute to recognize Carlisle was using a binder-a leather number used to keep his arms almost entirely immobile. The stretch bordered on the edge of too much, and Edward fell deeper into subspace, relaxing his body, turning off thought to concentrate on the feel of it.

With a soft grunt, Carlisle stood again. The heat of his breath, his body left Edward's skin too cool. He shivered.

There was no warning before Edward felt the sting of the crop flicking his nipple. "Agh!" he cried, more out of surprise than any terrible amount of pain, but he hadn't even caught his breath before Carlisle flicked the other nipple. Edward sucked in a sharp breath.

Edward whimpered when Carlisle returned to teasing him. He ran the crop along Edward's belly again, still not dipping low enough to touch his already aching cock. Again, he circled his belly button, and then-

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Edward jumped as Carlisle rained a trio of smacks to the sensitive skin of his stomach. He flinched backward but righted himself quickly, eager for more.

Carlisle moved around to his back and traced patterns along the wide expanse of skin. Edward did his best to keep still, but he wanted to squirm. After minutes, he opened his mouth to beg and caught himself just in time. Instead of speaking, he made a strangled noise at the back of his throat.

"You have something to say, little boy?" Carlisle asked, caressing the crack of Edward's ass with a gentle pressure.

Edward shook his head and closed his mouth.

Carlisle ran his fingers through Edward's hair. "Such a good boy." And with those words, he brought the crop down on Edward's back five times in quick succession. Then he dragged it to his upper back and repeated those swats. Then again to the top curve of each of his ass cheeks.

As Edward caught his breath, Carlisle knelt behind him. As he scooted closer, Edward was thrilled to find he'd lost the pants somewhere along the line. Edward gasped as he was yanked roughly backward so his upper back was against his Dom's chest. With his legs spread wide, he was exposed. His cock rested against his stomach.

Carlisle brushed his lips against Edward's cheek and pressed his mouth to his ear. "Do you know how beautiful you are, pet?" As he spoke, he drew the head of the crop along the inside of Edward's right leg. "I love you like this. You can't hide from me, can you?" He ran the crop along the inside of his left leg, teasing the spot where leg met torso without brushing his cock or balls. "You're mine," he rumbled against Edward's ear. "Do you know that? Mine to do with what I will."

Edward mewled and then gasped as Carlisle smacked the crop against his inner leg, close to his knee. This time, he didn't stop at three or five strokes. No. This time, he was relentless. Without fail and without mercy, the sting of the crop traced a methodical line of fire up one thigh, then down the other. Edward tilted his head back, his cheek brushing Carlisle's, and cried out with wordless yells. "Ah. Ah. Ah!"

Carlisle stroked his free hand along Edward's belly and kissed the side of his mouth. Finally, _finally,_ he touched the head of the crop to Edward's balls. Edward groaned shamelessly as he traced the leather tip over and around them, and then along the line of his shaft. "You like that, hmm?" Carlisle said, his voice low and hot against his ear.

Edward nodded.

"And this?" He slapped the crop against Edward's balls, not as hard as he had his thighs by a long shot, but hard enough.

Edward's whole body jerked. He pressed his lips together, muffling a moan, but he nodded.

Again, Carlisle was relentless. He covered Edward's balls and his cock with small but unforgiving smacks until Edward's chest was heaving with the strength of his breaths. He whined and moaned and writhed. Carlisle kept him anchored and steady, unable to escape this glorious torment.

By the time he stopped, they were both breathless. Carlisle took his earlobe in his mouth and nibbled, sucked, tugged roughly. He had both his hands on Edward now, rolling his nipples between his fingers. "I'm going to take you, little boy," he said, his voice a gravelly growl now. "I'm going to fuck you into the floor."

With that, Edward found himself being propelled forward. Before he knew it, his chest was on the ground, his head turned to the side and his ass in the air. He heard the snap of the lube bottle, and his Dom's fingers at his asshole. He cried out more with relief than anything as Carlisle slid home inside him. He fucked him hard and fast, his hand spread wide on Edward's back, the other at his hips to steady himself.

Minutes later, Carlisle had managed to find enough energy to undo Edward's binds. The moment he was free, his Dom groaned and flopped over. Edward took off the blindfold to find a sight that took his breath away. Carlisle lay on the carpet on his back, an arm thrown over his eyes. His skin was flushed and damp.

Grinning, Edward lay down with him, resting his head on Carlisle's shoulder. His husband sighed and wrapped an arm around him. He kissed the top of his hair. "Are you okay, baby?"

Edward had to laugh. "More than okay, daddy."

"Good."

Carlisle didn't seem to be in any rush. Edward allowed himself the moment to bask. He was so sated, so fucking happy, sometimes he could hardly stand himself. He turned his head, hiding an obnoxious grin against Carlisle's neck.

Five years. He'd been with this wonderful man for five years, and they were impressively happy. Of course, they'd had their share of struggles. They'd fought and learned. They'd grown together, stronger with each challenge they faced. Their careers were going well.

Not for the first time, Edward wondered if life _could_ get any better.

Lately, that line of thought had gotten more dangerous.

As though he sensed the shift in Edward's previously blissed-out thoughts, Carlisle began to stroke his fingers along his arm. "What is it?"

Edward huffed. "How do you do that?"

Carlisle wiggled a bit so they were face to face. His look and touch was tender as he stroked his fingers along Edward's cheek and chin. "You think I don't know you by now?" He kissed Edward, a soft kiss full of all his love. "Tell me what's wrong, honey."

"Nothing's wrong." When Carlisle tilted his head, challenging the statement without a word, Edward's lips twitched up in a smile. "Really. Nothing's wrong. It's just, I was thinking…"

His heart began to beat a nervous tattoo. Carlisle put his free hand to his chest, his brows furrowed as he felt it. "Tell me," he said again.

"We haven't _really_ talked about it." It had been way too much to think about when Edward was holding down a residency. "But… Um. Do you…" Edward blew out a huff of breath, telling himself to get a grip. "Do you want kids?"

Carlisle sucked in a sharp breath. For one or two of the most tense seconds on the planet, his eyes went wide and his body rigid.

"I mean. We-" Edward started, but he was cut off when Carlisle kissed him. Hard.

"Yes," he said, the word filled with joy and excitement. He kissed him again and again until they were breathless. "Yes. Yes."

Edward kissed him back. He giggled-giddy with relief and shock and oh my god, was he going to be a daddy? He rolled over, straddling Carlisle, kissing him and kissing him and breaking with a gasp. He leaned over him, hands on either side of his head, panting. "Are we really going to do this?"

Carlisle's smile was blinding. He stroked Edward's cheek. "You want to make us a family? Yes. Yes, I'm very much for that idea."

Edward collapsed on him, kissing him, tangling up in his embrace. "I love you," he said.

"I love you," Carlisle said pulling him closer. "So much. So, so much."

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 **A/N: Thank you to the people who make my docs an amazing place to be and my writing better: songster, barburella, MyOnlyHeroin, JessyPT, and Packy 2.0.**

 **Shout out to the wonderful, talented, amazing Mina. That banner, you guys. I literally screeched out loud when I saw it. Scared the hell out of my roomies. So gorgeous.**

 **SO. How are we feeling?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I should not be posting again so soon, but I'm in a HORRIBLE mood, and we all know my favorite form of self-medication. Hehehe.**

 **I love that you guys are so excited about this fic.**

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In his years of loneliness, Carlisle had done his best to separate his life into what he could have and what he couldn't. It wasn't that he thought he couldn't have a relationship. It was all a matter of circumstance.

In his twenties, he was far too busy. It was a romantic notion that love could bloom and everything would be great no matter what the circumstance, but that was fairy tale logic at best. Relationships were a time sink, and they were hard work. Worth the effort, as far as he could see, but he had other things to do. Carlisle was no genius. Medical school was a constant challenge. Then, when he finally made it through those hellacious years, there was his internship, his residency, and so on.

In his thirties, he finally had the time to begin to get to know and accept himself. He had no small amount of self-worth issues, courtesy of his father. In addition, after watching Esme split two very important sides of herself between two different men-her husband as her lover and partner, and him to take care of her needs as a submissive-he'd long ago decided if he couldn't have a romantic relationship with a submissive, he was better off with no relationship at all.

Between his self-worth issues and his busy life, Carlisle had figured marriage and a family wasn't in the cards. Then, his gorgeous, intriguing, too-smart-for-his-own-good intern turned out to be a submissive, and had sent his life into the most wonderful tailspin.

Now, the love of his life sat next to him at the table looking distractingly sexy with his reading glasses on and his hair in a disarray from poring over all the paperwork in front of him. He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact this man was his husband, and now they were planning a family together. Carlisle didn't think he'd ever get over the thrill of the thought.

Edward huffed and pushed his glasses up so he could rub his eyes. "Christ, this is a lot of red tape. You ever wish that one of us had been born with a uterus?"

"I've seen the miracle of birth, so no. I can't say I'd wish that on either of us."

Edward smiled. "That's a good point." His grin turned wicked. "But you have to admit, sex is a much nicer form of conception than all this." He gestured at all the paperwork in front of them.

Carlisle grasped the leg of Edward's chair and dragged his husband over to him, delighting in his yelp of surprise. Cupping one hand around the back of his head, he pulled his face toward him for a kiss, letting the fingers of his other hand tickle behind his knee. Edward whimpered into his mouth, his tongue lapping along with Carlisle's.

After a few blissful minutes of this, Carlisle pulled back with a sigh. He stroked his thumb across Edward's high cheekbones, momentarily allowing himself to imagine a baby with this boy's beautiful features. He sighed again. "A lot of couples have fertility issues, sweetheart. That doesn't make this any less sexy." He pressed a kiss to his temple. "Besides, seeing you as a daddy is only going to make me hotter for you."

"Mmm." Edward nipped at his lips with a kiss. "Are you saying you want to be a switch, because I'm pretty sure I'm not okay with that, Daddy."

Carlisle clucked his tongue. "Such a one track mind, little boy." He bumped the underside of his chin. "Concentrate a little longer, and then we can see what fun we can have with my new spreader bar and that edible wax you like so much."

Edward moaned, and they both looked back to the paperwork. He sighed, this time in mild frustration. "We're going to have to put our toys away for a while," he said matter-of-factly.

Carlisle hummed an acknowledgment, considering this.

When they decided to have a family, they'd faced one decision after another. First things first, they had to decide between surrogacy and adoption. As much as Carlisle would have loved to hold a child of Edward's in his arms, neither of them knew a woman whom they could trust. Esme was passed her peak childbearing years, and she'd had a very difficult last pregnancy. Bella was young, didn't have children of her own, and had no desire to be pregnant. Surrogacy was out.

Adoption came with its own choices. They could have adopted outside of the country. They could have registered with an agency that would help pair them with a birth mother. The number of adoption agencies willing to work with a same-sex couple was increasing all the time.

In the end, they decided they wanted to adopt from the neediest of children. They decided to become foster parents with the option of adopting. What it meant was they would open their home to children in need as foster children with the expectation that if their birth parents had their parental rights terminated, Carlisle and Edward would adopt those children (or single child) as their own.

Even after they'd gotten through all of those decisions, there was one more left to make. Would they foster through the county or through a private agency. A private agency provided a larger monthly stipend, but that was hardly an issue for them. It was more like a business than a service, and foster parents were an asset. Agencies had a vested interest in keeping their assets happy.

On the flip side of that coin, private agencies also had stricter guidelines. Carlisle had read online about how they were more fastidious about inspections. While they had to follow state and county guidelines, they also had more freedom to impose other guidelines for their foster parents.

"What have I told you from the beginning, little boy?" Carlisle wagged his eyebrows at his husband. "Fuck playrooms and weird equipment. The best method is to hide in plain sight. We'll put the toys in the chest and lock the chest in the attic." His lip twitched. "The candles still look like candles, and just because you know damn well the things I can do to you with a wooden spoon or the backside of a hairbrush doesn't mean anyone else has to be the wiser. We'll just have to be creative for a time; that's all."

Edward's eyes shone. "We're going to have a very different kind of playroom soon."

Carlisle smiled back, excitement once again making his heart skip a beat. "Soon. Very soon."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward had been quiet since they left the interview. Too quiet. Carlisle wanted to take him out to their favorite restaurant-they were both tense-but he sensed now wasn't the time. Instead, he stopped only briefly for Chinese takeout before driving them home.

"The director was a bit of a jerk, wasn't he?" Carlisle asked, breaking the ice once they were settled.

Edward scoffed. "He didn't like us, but not for any reason I can figure out. It's not the gay thing."

That was certain. They'd chosen this agency after combing through reviews from other same-sex foster parents. Carlisle hummed, thinking it over. "The age gap, perhaps?"

"Ah." Edward's face turned bitter. "That's exactly what it was. An echo of my parents' disapproval."

Carlisle rubbed his knee, and pushed down his own anger. "Well, even if he did disapprove of that, his words were what was important. He wants to approve us, and we'll get the same support everyone else does. We passed the interview."

At that, Edward's smile became more genuine. "And since you hired that guy to baby-proof the house, the inspection should be fine."

"One step closer."

Edward took his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing Carlisle's fingertips before he let it go.

Some minutes later, before Carlisle could call Edward out on the fact he was just pushing his chowmein around the plate rather than eating it, his husband put the plate down. He angled his body toward Carlisle, clenching and unclenching his hands on top of his knees.

Carlisle put his food down too and scooted over so their knees were touching. He put one hand over Edward's fist and stroked his tense knuckles.

Edward met his eyes, and the uncertainty Carlisle saw there was painful. "You know, before I met you, I thought my parents were, I don't know, maybe annoying? They frustrated me, but I thought that was normal." He swallowed hard. "The way I was… The way I am sometimes, about my feelings, about hugs and cuddles…"

Carlisle didn't wait for him to finish. He gathered his precious boy in his arms, holding him tightly. Edward stiffened a moment, but let himself be comforted. The soft stuff he used to call this.

Edward pulled back to look at Carlisle. "Just promise me one thing. I don't think my parents were bad parents. I really don't, but it just seems so important right now that they-our kids-don't end up… I don't know. What would you call that? Emotionally stunted. They can cry and feel things. If I ever tell them they can't-"

"Baby, hush." Carlisle took Edward's face between his hands.

"I just… I don't want to be a bad father."

"Edward, you're not your parents. Not at all." Carlisle cocked his head, trying to find the right words. There was no love lost between him and his in-laws. The Masens didn't like him, but even though he thought they were misguided, he understood they did have Edward's best interests at heart. Everyone grew up with their quirks and issues. The Masens weren't cruel, they were simply cold.

Carlisle stroked Edward's hair back. "You've come such a long way in a short amount of time, but for the most part, you're an emotionally healthy person. You're an empathetic doctor. You're one of the first people your friends come to when they have problems. And you're so good to me. So tender." He pressed his thumb in a circle behind Edward's ear. "You're warm, baby."

"Ninety-eight point seven, just like most humans."

"Brat." Carlisle chuckled and kissed him. "You're not going to be a perfect father, Edward. I'm as nervous as you are, maybe even more so considering my own example, but I'm not scared."

"I'm not-" Edward started to say, but cut himself off. Likely he realized he was brushing aside his emotions, and wasn't that what his problem was at the moment? "Why aren't you scared?"

"Because I have you." Carlisle took Edward's hands in his and squeezed. "We're good partners, my love. You're going to have my back the same way I'm going to have yours. And yes, that means if we don't agree with a choice the other has made in regards to the kids, we're going to call each other on it."

"You're right. It doesn't sound scary when you put it like that." He scrunched his nose. "Except that whole part where someone is going to trust us with miniature humans. Everything's on us."

"You're right. That _is_ a scary thought."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward loved his parents. As Carlisle had diplomatically put it, they weren't without fault, but neither would he be as a father. Still, it left an acerbic taste in his mouth that rather than be excited to tell his parents they'd be grandparents sooner than later, he was nervous.

Ed and Elizabeth didn't disappoint. They came at the news with a steady practicality Edward appreciated in other circumstances. Because of his parents, Edward was able to come at most situations without the emotion that sometimes clouded other people's judgment. It was a good skill to have. Still, moments like these, Edward could have stood a _little_ glee.

"I'm not sure I understand," Elizabeth said, her brow furrowed. "This route seems circuitous if you want children." Her gaze flicked to Carlisle and quickly back to her son. "You're a well-to-do couple. Surely surrogacy would be a more certain, direct route."

"Yes," Ed said. "The way I understand it, the foster system does whatever it can to return children to their useless parents or at the very least keep them within the same family."

Edward grimaced. "Most of their parents aren't useless, Dad. They're just troubled. They need help."

He could see his father's derision clearly on his face, but before Ed could comment, Carlisle stepped in. "It's true that the system works to reunify families, but of course, that's not always going to work. The agency knows adoption is our end goal. They'll place kids with us who are more likely to become adoptable than not."

"Sitting back and hoping for a child's parents to destroy their own chances is vulture-like behavior," Elizabeth said with an expression of distaste.

"It's a simple if regrettable reality," Carlisle said, his tone still even. He held Edward's hand below the table, squeezing now and again. "The system is overrun with children in need. It's like anything else. There's only so much you can do for a person who doesn't want to help themselves. Some of these parents are going to fail. Edward and I find beauty in the idea we can be a forever home-steady love and support-for a child or children who would otherwise go without."

Elizabeth nodded and switched tactics. "Still, it seems like a recipe for heartbreak. Even if the agency places children with you who are likely to become adoptable, there's still a chance you'll have to give them back to their real parents."

Edward's heart gave a pang. That was one of the harder things about being a foster parent. They'd be responsible for getting the child or children placed with them to visitation with parents who could have any number of issues. They would have to deal with the fallout while, in all likelihood, the child gave all their love to their parent. Then, after they got attached, after they came to love one of these children, they might have to give them back without the hope of seeing them ever again.

He had to swallow down a thick knot before he could speak. "It's a possibility, but something could potentially go wrong no matter what choice we made. We'll deal with it if and when it happens."

"You always did like to make things harder than necessary for yourself," Ed said, shaking his head. He shrugged and offered his son a small smile. "But I suppose parenting is always going to be hard no matter what route you take to get there. You'll be a good father, Junior."

Edward blinked, shocked into silence. "Are you-what?"

His mother likewise smiled and patted his hand. "I'm excited for you. I can't say I'm not worried, but your father's right. This can be a very good thing."

Sometime later, after Edward had gotten over his surprise at his parents' approval, he was out in the lawn. It was his habit, whenever he went to visit his parents, to do a few chores to help them out. He'd stooped to pull at a number of stubborn weeds when his mother's voice brought him out of a reverie.

"Junior, what on earth happened to you?"

Edward rose, concerned at the horror in his mother's voice. He was confused until she pulled his shirt up, exposing a rather nasty looking bruise on his back. He quickly yanked the shirt out of his mother's grasp and pulled it back down. "It's nothing, Mom."

"That's not nothing."

Despite himself, Edward's cheeks flushed.

It really was his fault. Brat that he always was, Edward had earned himself a hard paddling the day before. The injury was a fluke. Carlisle was a very careful Dom, and Edward was good about holding position even in the midst of a difficult scene. But that time, electricity shot up his spine at the exact wrong moment. He'd straightened up and twisted just right so that Carlisle's blow came down not on his backside, where it was safe and would do no real harm, but on his back where any number of things could have gone wrong.

Carlisle was beside himself with guilt. He was rigid, as anyone in their culture should be, about the code of safe, sane, and consensual. He'd been the one to safe word out of scene and, after he'd assured himself he hadn't hurt Edward seriously, had begged his forgiveness over and over.

Of course, Edward couldn't tell his mother any of that. "It's really nothing. A patient woke up unexpectedly. He didn't know where he was, and he reacted in panic. I got shoved into some equipment. That's all."

"Goodness." Elizabeth patted his upper back gently, still staring at the spot even though it was covered now. She huffed, but she seemed appeased. "I never thought about your profession being dangerous."

"Ah, that's nothing. I know a guy who was stabbed in the neck with a needle."

His mother's eyes went wide. "That's not comforting."

Edward laughed and gave his mother a quick hug. "Don't worry about me, Mom."

 _ **~0~**_

Over two months after they'd begun this journey, Edward and Carlisle finally got the call that would change their lives.

The children were Riley and Bree, five years old and six months old respectively. Siblings. Their mother had been taken in on domestic violence charges. It had been discovered she had let an ex-boyfriend back in the house, the same boyfriend whose abuse of Riley-not his child-had gotten the boy taken away from her a year before. One of the conditions of her getting Riley back had been her promise that she wouldn't let her ex-boyfriend near him or the child she'd been pregnant with at the time.

"The mother, Victoria, has a history with this man. James. He did some time for statutory rape when they were together when she was still in her teens," their social worker, Siobhan said. She gave them a sad smile. "Under the circumstances, I would say there's a strong possibility Victoria will choose her boyfriend over her children. Even if not, the fact she continues to go back to him will factor heavily into a judge's decision to sever her parental rights, but that's getting ahead of ourselves at the moment."

Edward was sure he was squeezing his husband's hand too hard, but he couldn't seem to stop. "That doesn't matter right now," he said, meaning it.

Siobhan nodded. "Then let's introduce you."

Beside him, Carlisle took a deep breath. They held hands all the way down the hall to the room where Riley and Bree were with another social worker.

Riley was a skinny child. He had messy brown hair and angry, suspicious brown eyes. The second the door opened, he'd hurried to pick up his baby sister in his arms and held her protectively as he glared and Carlisle and Edward.

The baby was his polar opposite except for the matching mop of messy brown hair. She was a chubby girl and happy. She squealed with pleasure and babbled at them in baby-speak with a big, slobbery grin on her face. Edward was instantly smitten.

"Riley, this is Carlisle and Edward. They're going to take care of you like we talked about," Siobhan said.

Edward watched, ever more in love with his husband, as Carlisle got to his knees in front of Riley. His voice was gentle and light. "Hello, little man."

"I don't want to hug you," Riley said. His voice trembled, but he hid fear behind anger. Edward's heart went out to him.

Carlisle just nodded. "Okay. That's fine. How do you feel about handshakes?" he asked, offering his hand.

Riley looked uncertain. Siobhan squeezed his shoulder. "Why don't you let me hold Bree, hmm?" she said, reaching down.

At first, it seemed like Riley would refuse to give the baby up, but she must have been heavy for him. He let Siobhan take her, and then he looked back to Carlisle. He took a breath and tentatively put his hand in his foster father's.

A chill went down Edward's spine. Was Carlisle meeting his son? Their son? He could tell Carlisle was trying not to beam as he shook. "It's good to meet you, Riley."

It all seemed to happen quickly then. Not half an hour later, Edward was stunned to find himself back home, baby Bree heavy on his chest, asleep. Riley, over his initial mistrust and clinging to Carlisle's hand, explored the house with wide eyes. He'd already said several times he'd never seen a house so big.

Riley got distracted discovering the contents of the toybox they'd purchased and filled, so Carlisle came back to the couch to sit beside Edward. His smile was adoring as he stroked Bree's cheek and then Edward's.

"There are kids in our house," Edward whispered so Riley couldn't hear.

Carlisle laughed. "There are." He stroked Bree's cheek again. "This is a good look on you, Edward."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Carlisle sighed and rested his head on his shoulder, taking Edward's free hand.

There was a chance this could be theirs for good. The thought made Edward so happy, he almost cried.

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 **A/N: Ahhhh my docs… Thanks to barburella, MoH, Mina, Packy 2.0, songster, and jessypt for all their help and their flails. I do love me some flails.**

 **Okay. Don't expect another chapter right away. I'm trying to be good. Heh**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm going through my cushion way too fast. Humph.**

* * *

Watching Edward with Bree was one of the best things Carlisle thought he'd ever seen.

It wasn't that he was bad with Riley. Riley got along with Edward as much as Riley got along with anyone. They rough housed on occasion, tumbling around the living room. Edward talked with him about the other kids at his school, and Edward was patient with his questions. He was a good, attentive father to their active, sometimes angry foster son. He simply had a deeper connection with Bree at that point.

Whenever he got home, Bree went bananas, babbling for him, bouncing in place, and waving her arms wildly until he picked her up. When she was upset, Edward could soothe her faster. Carlisle thought it was adorable how Edward never stopped talking to her. He often held her at his hip, chatting with her as though her baby babble was actually an in-depth conversation on the latest surgical techniques.

Carlisle never got tired of watching Edward with the baby. That was exactly what he was doing as he and Riley sprawled on the couch one late afternoon. They were both exhausted-it had been a full day of children's museums-but Edward and Bree were going strong.

They were both sitting on Bree's playmat, playing silly baby games. Bree grinned and bounced in place, happily picking up things to wave in Edward's face. He played and talked with her, making her squeal and giggle her pretty little head off.

Edward started to make foolish faces. He made fish lips and waved his hands at his ears. Bree tilted her head, studying him for a moment before she mimicked his pose. Her lips were more duck lips-"Someone's ready for selfies," Edward said-and she puffed her cheeks out at the same time.

Carlisle laughed. Edward cackled and scooped Bree into his arms. He blew raspberries at her neck, and she screeched, the both of them clearly delighted with each other.

Beside Carlisle, Riley yawned. "I could do that too," he said, more sleepy than actually moody. He yawned again and laid down with his head pillowed on Carlisle's lap, and promptly fell asleep.

"He'd make a good doctor if he can fall asleep like that," Edward said, coming over to join Carlisle on the couch with Bree in his arms.

"He falls asleep in the weirdest places," Carlisle said, fondly pushing Riley's hair back out of his face.

Riley grunted, shifted, and let out a mighty toot in his sleep. Edward and Carlisle giggled like school boys. Bree, knowing a good time when she saw one, joined in.

Carlisle was smitten with his makeshift family.

 _ **~0~**_

Watching Carlisle with Riley was one of the greatest pleasures of Edward's life.

It wasn't that he was bad with Bree. Quite the contrary. He'd gotten up with her just as much as Edward when she was getting used to sleeping through the night in her new home. He changed diapers, fed her, bathed her, and loved playing with her as much as Edward.

But Bree was a baby. As long as she was fed and dry, she was easy. Needy, but simple. Riley was the antithesis of easy. He was an angry, stubborn little boy. Edward knew he was confused. His mother and whatever friends she'd trooped in and out of his life had filled his head with nonsense. He had a warped view of what constituted a man, which made the fact he now lived with two gay men interesting. Edward knew enough about child psychology to understand that at that age, the hateful things he occasionally spewed weren't really his thoughts, but ideas he was parroting.

Siobhan and Riley's therapist, Zafrina, had explained he felt traitorous. They could all tell Riley loved Carlisle and Edward. He loved their home, their attention, the things he'd never had at his mother's house. Loving them, being, heaven forbid, _happy_ with them made him feel like he'd betrayed his mother. It was always worse after a visit, when Victoria had time to refill his head with guilt and shame.

"I don't like you!" the little boy screamed, red in the face and tear streaked.

Carlisle nodded in that maddeningly calm way of his. "I'm okay with that. You still have to pick up your toys."

Riley sat down in the middle of the room with a huff and crossed his arms. Carlisle sat in his recliner, crossed his legs, and started to page through a medical journal. Riley huffed several more times. Carlisle ignored him. In the kitchen making dinner with Bree happily banging away at something in her playpen, Edward did his best not to snicker.

Carlisle had always been good with brats.

It took a good ten minutes of huffing, but Riley finally, quietly, cleaned up the mess he'd been asked repeatedly to straighten. When he was done, he sat at Carlisle's feet, his head bowed, and tugged restlessly at his pant leg. "I put my toys away," he said in a tiny voice.

Carlisle put down his journal and lifted the boy onto his lap. "That wasn't so hard," he said.

Riley sat stiffly for a minute, his lower lip crumpling as he fought valiantly not to cry. Edward had to shake away his father's voice in his head. " _No one likes a crybaby, Junior. Be a little man."_

Carlisle patted the boy gently, tenderly. He rubbed his back, and when Riley broke, he gathered him close for a tight, tight hug.

"I'm bad," Riley said, and Edward's heart broke for him.

"No," Carlisle said, kissing the top of his head. His eyes found Edward's as he spoke softly to Riley. "You're a very good boy."

"Are you sure?" He sniffed. "You won't make me leave?"

Carlisle sighed, his eyes still on Edward as he squeezed the boy tighter. "What have I told you before, hmm?"

Riley sniffled and pulled back, looking at him and wiping his eyes. He shrugged, and Carlisle ruffled his hair affectionately. "Edward and I are doctors, remember? We checked out all the bones in your body, and we're pretty sure you don't have a single bad one." He made a show of pulling Riley's arm out to inspect it just in case.

The little boy giggled at that and pulled his hands away, hiding them in his lap.

"There's that big smile." Carlisle smiled back at him. "Don't be so hard on yourself, kiddo," he said, helping him dry his tears. "Sometimes, when we're angry, we do silly things. You know you're supposed to clean up when you make a mess, but you just needed a minute to calm down. Happens to everyone."

"What about you an' Edward?"

"Oh, Edward is naughty all the time. Trust me."

"Hey," Edward said, coming out of the kitchen. "I resemble that remark."

Riley craned his head to look up at Edward. "Do you get time outs?"

"Um." Edward rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks go pink. "Grown-ups are a little different, bub, but kind of, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Who's hungry?"

"Me. Me. Me. Me!" Riley slid off Carlisle's lap to the floor, all smiles again.

"Go wash up," Carlisle said to Riley as he followed Edward back into the kitchen.

Before Edward could turn to take the food off the stove, his husband reached out and hooked a finger through his belt loop. He pulled Edward back against him, pinning him against the counter and kissing the spot beneath his ear. "We should talk about putting you on adult time-out soon." His voice was a low rumble that made him shiver.

Edward turned in his embrace and wrapped his arms around Carlisle's neck. Their kisses were quick but deep, passionate, and Edward bucked his hips up against his husband in a wordless promise.

 _ **~0~**_

Six months passed. Riley turned six and Bree turned one. Edward and Carlisle were there for first steps, first words, and Riley's first day of school. They took care of the children, kissed them and cared for them, as if they were already their own. Riley started to call them Daddies, and Bree often whimpered, reaching for one of them when she was with her mother.

As for Victoria, as Siobhan had predicted, she began to struggle. The police were called to her home when a fight between her and James-who was again not supposed to be in the home-got too loud and violent for the neighbors to ignore. She missed many of her court-mandated classes and began to miss visits, too.

When the children had been with them for eight months, Siobhan began to prepare them all for the likelihood Victoria's parental rights would be severed sooner than later. It was a long process, but they were on their way to becoming a forever family.

One night, Riley climbed up onto Carlisle's lap. Carlisle braced himself. The boy had been quieter than usual all afternoon. Riley nestled against him, head ducked against his chest. "Know what?" he said in an uncertain voice.

"What's that?" Carlisle asked, scratching his fingernails along the child's back the way he liked.

"I like this house and my room. And I like you and Daddy." He reached out to pat Edward who was sitting beside them on the couch. "And Bree likes it here, too, I think. She laughs all the time, and she's learning lots and lots."

Carlisle glanced at Edward. His husband's smile was small, sad, but his eyes were lit with tenderness, too. It was, they'd reflected more than once, a heartbreaking way to make a family-by watching another family crumble. Edward ducked his head to press a kiss to Bree's hair. The baby was snug in his arms, her eyelids drooping as she lost her battle with sleep. "We like having you here," Edward said.

Riley furrowed his brows, looking up at both of them. "Do you love us?"

"Of course," Edward and Carlisle said together.

"Mommy loves us, too." Riley looked down and began to play with a button on Carlisle's shirt. "But Mommy has problems, huh? That's what Siobhan said."

Edward's jaw went stiff at Riley's words. These last few months, it had been increasingly difficult to have to take the kids to see their mother. They'd long ago become attached to the children and taking them to visit a woman who only ever seemed to confuse and disappoint them was beyond frustrating.

Carlisle swallowed down a hard lump in his throat. He hated when his kids-it was so difficult not to think of them as already his-ached for anything. "Yes," he said, giving Riley a squeeze. "Your mother loves you very much, but sometimes people can't be good parents. Sometimes it's better for their kids not to live with them."

"Then you and Daddy would get to keep us? But what if you have trouble like Mommy?" He looked up at Carlisle with wide, fearful eyes.

Edward shifted the sleeping baby to a more secure position so he could scoot closer to Carlisle and Riley. He put his arm around Carlisle's shoulders and stroked the back of Riley's hair. "We're not going to have trouble like your mommy, bub. We would be so lucky to be your forever daddies that we would be careful never to lose you."

Riley worried his lip for a moment, but then he nodded. He climbed to his feet so he could hug first Carlisle, then Edward. "I hope we get to stay here forever," he said as he slid down between them. He grabbed at the remote control. "Can we watch Nickelodeon?"

Glancing at Edward, Carlisle couldn't help but smile. They shared a sweet kiss over their children's' heads.

 _ **~0~**_

Like all parents, Carlisle and Edward had to learn to juggle parenthood and intimacy. Sex wasn't too difficult. They were both demonstrative men, and they had no problem taking advantage whenever the opportunity for an impromptu quickie arose.

Finding their stride as a Dominant and a submissive was a different story. They couldn't be as loud as they once had been, and it was imprudent to get into any kind of bondage, however light, when there was a chance of a kid interrupting them.

As a result, when they did have enough time and privacy to slip into scene, they were ravenous for each other. Their play escalated quickly, and it wasn't difficult for them to be rough with each other. Edward loved it when Carlisle was so undone, so feral. He loved Carlisle's complete possession of his body and will, the way he made Edward helpless so he had no choice but to give himself over to the pleasure and adrenaline.

That day, Emmett-Edward's friend from the hospital where he'd met Carlisle-and his wife Rosalie had taken Riley and Bree. They were taking Rosalie's godson Henry to a ballgame, and had offered to take both children to give Edward and Carlisle a break.

The car was hardly out of the driveway before Carlisle was on Edward. He gripped his hips and spun him around. Edward gasped as he was shoved hard against the door. Carlisle grabbed his wrists and yanked his arms above his head. He pinned him there, his fingers like manacles. He kicked at Edward's feet, forcing his legs open wide.

Edward was already breathless as Carlisle pressed his chest against his back. His Dom switched his grip so both of Edward's wrists were trapped by one of his hands. He attacked Edward's neck with nips and licks.

"Do you want me to be gentle, pet?" Carlisle asked, taking Edward's earlobe between his teeth.

Edward swallowed a whimper, shivering with the vibration of Carlisle's voice against his skin. He shook his head, the movement already bordering on frantic.

"That's good." Carlisle's hand came down in a sharp smack on Edward's ass. He jumped but there was nowhere to go. Carlisle squeezed the cheek he'd struck as he continued to rumble in his ear. "Because I have no intention of going slow. You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you know it, little boy. This is mine." He gave Edward's ass another sharp smack, hard enough to make him yelp. "And this is mine." He reached around and cupped his hand over Edward's jean-clad cock. He took hold of him, his grip firm even through clothes. "Tell me who this belongs to."

"P. Sherman. Forty-two Wallaby Way. Sydney- Ahh!" Edward inhaled through his nose, bowing his head against the wood when Carlisle tightened his grip.

"Such a smart mouth you have, little boy." He nipped his ear again. He hadn't loosened his grip at all. "Tell me who this belongs to."

Edward strained forward, desperately craving friction. Carlisle pinned him with his hips, trapping his own hand but keeping Edward from seeking any kind of relief or release. "Y-You, daddy." His voice shook not from fear but from excitement. He was hard beneath Carlisle's hand, and his need was at its peak. He'd missed this. God, he'd needed this. It had been too long since he could put all his will in his Dom's capable hands.

Carlisle took a step to the side. "Whose is this?" he demanded, raining a succession of spanks on each of Edward's ass cheeks.

Edward squirmed, twisting this way and that but unable to escape Carlisle's grip. "Yours. Yours."

After another few smacks, Carlisle rubbed and pinched his ass. He stepped closer to him as he did and kissed the side of his cheek. "It's been so long since I've seen my mark on you, baby boy. You mark so beautifully." He worked his hand around, rubbing over Edward's erection. "I'm going to mark up that pretty ass of yours so good, you're going to feel me on you for days."

Edward's breath caught in a whine and he pressed his crotch into Carlisle's hand. "Please, daddy. Yes, please."

Carlisle pressed against his trapped wrists. He spread Edward's arms and pressed his palms flat against the wall. "You keep these right here. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't think I won't go get the paddle. I know where it is, little one. You move from here, and I'm going to make sure you feel me for a week, hmm?"

It wasn't an unappealing prospect, but Edward had slipped into subspace. He wanted very much to please his Dom. "I'll be good."

Carlisle let go of his hands and turned his face to the side for a kiss. "You always are, beautiful boy."

He kissed him again, sucking at his tongue while his hands began to wander. He unbuttoned Edward's jeans and pushed them down along with his underwear to pool around his ankles. Edward shivered in anticipation.

Breaking their kiss, Carlisle put his hands to Edward's hip, guiding him backward. "Stick that hot ass out for me. Good boy. Spread your legs. Just like that. Good boy."

He stepped back, and Edward whimpered when he heard the snickof Carlisle's belt coming undone. He shivered when he heard the rustle of leather being pulled through belt loops. His body tensed in anticipation. He jumped a bit but managed to hold position when Carlisle drew the belt lightly over his ass.

"Count these, and tell me who you belong to."

The belt swished through the air and landed with a loud crack against Edward's backside. He threw his head back, cutting off a yelp at the line of fire bloomed. "One, sir. I'm your boy."

All told, Edward counted twenty-five very hard strokes across his backside. Carlisle striped the backs of his legs with five strokes each. He landed a flurry of much lighter strokes along his back for good measure, all the while keeping Edward on task, counting and reiterating that he was Carlisle's.

Edward, still propped against the wall, sagged forward, breathing hard. He shuddered. Carlisle rubbed his back and over his sore ass. "So pretty, baby."

He gave him a sharp smack across his ass. "Get on your knees."

Edward almost moaned. He was shaky from the endorphin rush and his cock was rock hard, begging for release. His body craved Carlisle. He wanted to be filled. He wanted to be fucked up against the wall hard and fast and-

Carlisle gripped his ear, forcing his head back so Edward gasped. He looked him in the eyes and clucked his tongue. "I gave you a chance to obey."

Edward winced as Carlisle led him by the ear, like a naughty little boy, a distance away to the living room's plush carpet. "Get on your knees," he said again, and this time, Edward obeyed. "There now. That wasn't so hard."

He tangled his fingers in Edward's hair and again forced his head back even as he unbuttoned his pants. "Open," he said, and when Edward eagerly obeyed, he pushed his cock into his mouth.

Carlisle groaned, his grip on Edward's hair tightening. "Fuck me, pet. You're such a good cocksucker. You love it, don't you."

Edward hummed, knowing how much Carlisle loved the vibration. He bobbed and licked, gasping when Carlisle's fingers curled tighter. He loved it. Loved the rush. The roughness that bordered on the edge of violence. He loved that he could trust this man to take him to this brink but not go over. He could lose himself totally, because Carlisle would never hurt him, never take him further than he wanted to go.

Several things happened at once then. Someone pounded on the front door. Hard. Angry. Carlisle stepped back, pulling out of Edward's mouth just on time as Edward bit down in surprise.

"Fuck," Carlisle said and Edward spun to follow his gaze. His brain was hazy, still caught up in subspace and the intensity of the scene. He couldn't figure out what that awful pounding was.

When he got fully turned around, Edward froze, every breath leaving him. His parents were at the window beside the door, the looks on their faces confused and horrified. They were both pounding on the door, the window. From where they were, Edward knew they could see the marks on his body, and they'd no doubt seen Carlisle fucking his mouth, pulling his hair as he did. It couldn't have looked good from where they were standing.

Edward agreed with Carlisle's assessment. "Fuck."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh, my. Well…**

 **Anyway. How are you doing out there?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm at work and there's a drag show in my future.**

 **This has been the amusing part of this chapter.**

 ***hand holding***

* * *

"Daddy, why is Daddy still outside?"

Carlisle looked up from where he was at the stove to see Riley perched with his knees on a chair, staring out the window. A small sliver of the driveway was visible from the window, and as Carlisle stepped up behind Riley, he could see Edward outside. His husband was pacing, alternately running a hand through his hair and gesticulating wildly. Carlisle grimaced and turned the burner on the stove off. He could guess who Edward was on the phone with.

Lifting Riley off the chair, Carlisle set him down facing the living room. "I need you out of the kitchen, buddy. I'll go outside and see what Daddy is up to, but I need you to stay with Bree. Come get us if she wakes up before we're inside, okay?"

"I'm on it." Riley ran ahead of him and threw himself down on his tummy beside the playpen where his sister slept. He rolled over onto his back, driving two of his toy cars around in the air making vroom and crash noises.

Carlisle checked on the baby, just in case, before he walked outside.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you," Edward was saying. "Don't you understand? You know what kink is."

Blowing out a breath of frustration, Carlisle caught Edward's hand on its umpteenth trip to his hair. He twined their fingers together and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"No," Edward said, his tone sharp. "He's not abusing me. I like it. I _want_ it." He growled and banged his head against Carlisle's shoulder. "It's not brainwashing." He pulled the phone away from his ear a brief moment to glare at it. "Can't you take my word for it?" He balked. "It's not degrading. It's… Jesus, it's anything but." He waved his hand as though his mother was there in front of him. "Because you don't get to decide for me what's disrespectful to my own body. You don't understand. It's the opposite of what you're thinking. He's doing it all for me. No. Mom-"

Carlisle stroked the back of his neck, his jaw clenched.

It looked bad. He knew that. There was a good reason why people involved in the scene were rarely open about it. Back when Edward had revealed he knew Carlisle was a Dom, the very first thought that had run through his mind was stark fear. For a split second, there was the potential his world was going to come crashing down around him.

The thought wasn't exaggeration by any stretch of the imagination. Everyone in the scene knew someone or knew firsthand some kind of discrimination. People had been arrested, fired. They'd been beat up. When they opened the door to Edward's parents, Ed Senior had come near enough to kicking Carlisle's ass first and asking questions later. He would have, if Edward hadn't gotten between them. It was the most emotion Carlisle had ever seen the man display.

They tried to explain, but Ed and Elizabeth couldn't see past the marks on Edward's body. To make matters worse, it fit a worry that had been nagging at Elizabeth for nearly a year now. She'd seen the horrible bruise on Edward's back from the accident they'd had with the paddle, and she'd never trusted Carlisle to begin with. What they'd walked in on had fit the narrative of her suspicions perfectly.

"Look, I can't have this conversation with you for the hundredth time again," Edward said, his tone irritated. "I don't need help leaving him. I'm never going to leave him. _Listen_ to me. I'm so happily married it's ridiculous. If you'd only listen, you'd understand how far off-base you are."

Carlisle could have told him he was wasting his breath. As far as Ed and Elizabeth were concerned, their only child was in the hands of a monster. He sighed and kissed Edward's cheek. He was trying to stay calm, but he had to wonder how far the Masens would go. If they couldn't be convinced Edward wasn't being abused, what would they do with what they knew?

Edward's brow furrowed. "Yeah, he's right here, why…" He slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead, realizing his mistake. "No, he's not _making_ me say anything. Dammit, I'm not afraid of him. I've never been afraid of him. Don't you see the difference?

"Okay. I'm done. I have to go feed my kids, Mom." With a disgruntled huff, Edward disconnected the call and glared at his phone. "Fuck."

Carlisle tugged and his husband turned to him, wrapping him up in a hug. Edward took a deep breath, calming his frustration. "I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry about?"

"For them." He looked up. His fingers drummed a steady beat at Carlisle's spine. "I can't stand that they think that way about you. It's just so opposite of who you are." He raised a hand to trace his thumb along Carlisle's chin. "You're so good to me. No one could be more giving, more focused on me and what I need.

"The problem is the only depictions of BDSM they have are the bullshit that's in mainstream. Men who push virginal young women to submit to things that scare them, that hurt them, that they don't enjoy, and tell them it's sexy. They think that's what you're doing to me. That I have to submit-subject and degrade myself because otherwise, I'd lose you." He shook his head, obviously getting worked up again.

Carlisle rubbed his shoulders, hushing him. "I know, sweetheart."

Shrugging off his hands, Edward wrapped his arms around Carlisle's neck. "You don't deserve this. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry your parents don't listen to you." Carlisle sighed, hugging his husband close. "Give it time, Edward. They'll come around."

Carlisle said the words, but there was a large part of him that didn't believe them. Abused persons often defended and excused their abusers. Was 'I wanted it' so much different than the victims who said 'it's my fault?' They sounded similar to someone who couldn't fathom why anyone would _want_ to be beaten, bruised, and treated roughly. The way he'd been pulling Edward's hair, pumping into his mouth had to have looked like rape.

What could they do but wait to see how it would all pan out?

 _ **~0~**_

The other foot fell a month after that first confrontation.

Siobhan arrived for her monthly visit with a grim look Edward didn't like at all. She sat down with them after she'd sent Riley off to play in his room for a minute.

"Okay, this is awkward," she said. "Um. Well, the bottom line is that there has been a report of abuse."

Edward's stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. "What?" He asked, the sound strangled.

"Your parents have alleged abuse against you by Carlisle, Edward," Siobhan said, looking from Edward to Carlisle. "They said they witnessed a rather graphic incident. They said they were worried about further abuse in the home."

"They don't know what the fuck they're talking about," Edward said.

Carlisle squeezed his hand. "They didn't see what they think they saw."

They explained or tried to. Siobhan smiled and nodded. "I'm sympathetic to you. I have an appreciation for that culture," she said. "But once abuse allegations have been levied, we have to investigate. There'll be an interview, a home investigation-more thorough than the initial walk-through. And we'll have questions for you and Riley."

"Okay," Carlisle said evenly. "We'll cooperate, of course."

They did. They cooperated with Siobhan and the small team who combed through their home and watched them with their kids. They answered embarrassing questions from social workers who, with the exception of Siobhan, failed to hide their judgment of Edward and Carlisle's chosen lifestyle.

In the end, the decision came down on the director's shoulders. The same man who'd given the initial interview.

Only a few days after the initial accusation, they were asked to meet with Mr. Newton. The children were taken into a separate room with Siobhan, while Edward and Carlisle were sent to the principal's office.

"The paraphernalia we found concerned us," the man said.

"You were given an explanation of every item you had a question about," Edward said, his voice tight. "We can't possibly be the only parents you've encountered with an active and… varied sex life. Like anyone else, we don't expose the kids to what we do in the privacy of our own bedroom."

The man's lips twitched downward. "Be that as it may, we can't ignore the implications here. These are implements designed for corporal punishment of an extreme and insidious nature."

"I don't even believe in spanking a child with my hand . Neither of us has ever touched those kids," Carlisle said.

"No, but you've admitted you've beaten your husband."

Carlisle's body jolted. "That's not-"

"Doctors Cullen." Mr. Newton leaned across his desk. "I'm sorry. It's not something we can risk condoning."

Edward thought for a horrible second he really was going to throw up. "What are you saying?"

"At this time, I think it's best that we terminate your relationship with this agency."

"You can't do that," Edward said in an incredulous whisper. He couldn't quite wrap his head around what Mr. Newton was saying. Beside him, Carlisle put the hand that wasn't clutching his to his mouth. He looked struck.

"Of course, you know very well we can," the director said.

"But this is absurd," Carlisle said. "Whatever you need us to do, we'll do it. Whatever classes you want us to take, or-"

"You're not a legal parent in any sense of the word, Dr. Cullen. No one has made any charges against you as you have no parental rights to suspend. But neither do you have parental rights to regain. The agency is responsible for these children. If the state were to have to get involved on a case, not only would Riley and Bree be affected, but every child in our care might potentially suffer. I'm sure you understand our concern."

"So if they were ours, we could beat them both to high hell and there'd be a way to get them back, but we've loved these kids for eight months, we've promised we would be their family, and you're just going to rip that away when we haven't done anything?" Edward said. He didn't even know if he was angry. None of this made sense. It couldn't be real.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Newton said. "That's my final decision in the matter."

It was. No matter how they reasoned. Argued. Begged. Mr. Newton wouldn't be swayed. There was no compassion in this man's eyes. He'd never liked them from the get go, and he, like Edward's parents, was only too-willing to believe the worst.

"If you claim to love these children as much as you do, then you won't make it more difficult on them. If you can promise you'll leave without making a scene, you can say goodbye."

"How generous of you," Edward said without inflection.

It couldn't be real.

Mr. Newton's eyes narrowed. "If you'd prefer not to-"

"No!" Edward and Carlisle said together. Edward had never been more desperate to see his kids in his life. He clutched Carlisle's hand and followed the director out of the room in a daze.

When they entered the private room where Siobhan was with Riley and Bree, the little boy ran to them. He threw his arms around Carlisle's legs. It was obvious he'd been crying for a long time. "Siobhan says we can't live with you. She's wrong. She's wrong. Daddy, tell her she's wrong."

Carlisle got to his knees, engulfing Riley in his arms. He didn't speak. Edward saw he couldn't just then. As he searched for words, Edward went to Siobhan. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, handing him Bree who was reaching for him.

"Da," the little girl said, her tone somehow fretful. She whimpered, no doubt picking up the mood in the room. She often got upset when her brother was upset. "Da. Da."

Edward's heart cracked, but the feeling was far away. He was numb, but he hugged her closer instinctively. "Don't cry, beautiful baby girl. Shhh. It's all okay."

"You promised we were going to be a forever family," Riley yelled. He shoved at Carlisle until he got free of his arms and ran to Edward. "Daddy, please. Please. You said you weren't going to get in trouble like Mommy. You said you were careful. You said! Please, don't leave us. Please."

Edward knelt, unable to do anything but put his free arm around Riley. "This isn't what we want," he said-the only words he could find.

Carlisle put his arms around all of them, and Bree's whimpers became full blown cries. There were tears on Carlisle's cheeks, but Edward still felt switched off.

This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

"Time to go now," Mr. Newton said with a touch of impatience. "Say goodbye to Carlisle and Edward, Riley."

"No!" Riley clung to both of them. "No, no. I was a good boy. You said I was a good boy. You said you were going to be good, too. You said. No. No. No."

Edward had to fight the urge to tighten his hold as Siobhan gently took Bree from his arms. She had to hand the baby girl to Mr. Newton in order to pry Riley away from Carlisle. "It'll be okay," Edward said, because he couldn't make himself believe it wouldn't be.

He was numb as Mr. Newton ushered them away from the children, down the hallway-it felt so utterly wrong to get further away from Riley and Bree when they were crying like that, screaming for their daddies-out the door. They were both breathing raggedly when they got in their car. "This isn't happening," Edward whispered, staring straight forward. He turned to his husband. "Carlisle?" he said, as though he could explain somehow. He was going to wake up any second.

Carlisle stared back at him, his eyes fathomless and lost-filled with tears. He had no answers. In fact, the way he was breathing, Edward wondered suddenly if he was going to hyperventilate. He held a hand in a fist against his mouth. "Our kids. Edward."

Edward stared at the building in front of them as if he expected any minute, Riley would come tumbling down the stairs, his smile huge, eager to tell them about his day. He glanced in the rearview mirror to Bree's car seat. He blinked, wondering vaguely why it was empty.

This couldn't be happening.

* * *

 **A/N: I...don't know what to say. If you have questions, please let me know. The next few chapters have some clarification.**

 **Many thanks to Mina and Packy 2.0 for filling my documents with gifs and threats. Thanks to songster for the technical knowledge. Thanks to jessypt, MoH, and barburella.**

 **Annnnnd thank** _ **you,**_ **my lovelies. Mwah.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Happy Monday. Let's see how this plays out.**

* * *

Carlisle didn't even remember the drive home. He could think of nothing and everything all at once. The result was a white space in his head that was loud with a terrible, clamoring noise.

Coming into the living room, it was obvious children lived here. Riley's toys were scattered around, and Bree's playpen sat off to the side. There were baby blankets and the laundry-washed and folded that morning-still sat on the coffee table waiting to be put away. Carlisle stared at the stack of Bree's tiny pants and dresses sitting next to a stack of Riley's jeans.

Edward bolted, running for the downstairs bathroom, and Carlisle heard retching. The sound got his feet moving. This was something he could do. He knew how to take care of sick people. He had no idea how to begin to deal with what had just happened.

When had he gotten so used to his house being so noisy? He went to the kitchen to get a cool glass of water and then went to the bathroom. He set the water down on the counter and knelt beside Edward, rubbing his back as he tried to catch his breath. All the while, he kept his ear out, automatically worried because he didn't hear Bree's happy babbling or Riley playing nearby. Every few seconds, he would remember again that they weren't here, and a horrible, helpless anguish began to tug at him. He knew how to take care of his husband, so he concentrated on that.

Carlisle flushed the mess away when Edward rested his head against the side of the counter. He washed out his mouth and drank the rest of the water Carlisle offered him and leaned into his embrace when he put his arms around him. "Please tell me this isn't real," Edward whispered. "This can't be real, right? They're just out with Emmett and Rose. They're not gone. They can't be gone. Please tell me this isn't real."

Closing his eyes, Carlisle tilted his head against Edward's and didn't speak. Never in his life had he wanted so desperately to grant a wish, make this all unreal. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and prayed harder than he ever had, entreating a higher power to undo all of this. As though, if he could wish hard enough, Riley would come knock on the door, demanding their attention. Bree would cry for one of them, awake from her nap, ready to be changed, fed, and cuddled.

Carlisle's shoulders shook as he began to cry quietly. This kind of pain, so deep in his heart, was utterly bewildering. He'd forgotten how to speak.

The doorbell rang, and they both stiffened. Mr. Newton had said someone would be by to pick up the kids' things. For a second, Carlisle didn't think he could breathe. Edward made a distressed sound, low in his throat. They clung to each other.

The doorbell rang again. Repeatedly. They rose together, both of them shaking. Carlisle caught a glimpse of Edward's face in the mirror. He wasn't crying. His eyes were blank, his stare remote.

Carlisle wiped at his own tears and started toward the door. He was surprised when Edward took his hand, coming with him, but even that emotion didn't linger. He was feeling too many things all at once to concentrate on anything specific. He opened the door with dread.

Another jolt went down Carlisle's spine when he saw not a social worker, but Edward's parents on the stoop. He clutched the door frame. The rush of hate that went through him was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could have torn them apart, ripped them both to shreds in a heartbeat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Edward asked through clenched teeth. The words were strangled, choked with rage.

"We've come to take you home," Elizabeth said. She wasn't looking at Carlisle at all while Ed was looking at him with barely contained malevolence.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Edward asked. The question was loud enough that it drew the attention of their neighbor. The woman raised her head, looking across the way with curiosity and concern. "I _am_ home. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Ed glanced to the side, noticing the neighbor-woman's attention. He looked to his son. "We should talk inside, Junior, if you're not ready to come to your senses yet."

"Like hell," Carlisle said, finding his voice. He didn't want these people in his home. The rage in him was growing, and he wanted them far away before he lost what little control he had.

"No. Let them come in." Edward stepped back, opening the door wider and pulling Carlisle back with him. When he looked at Carlisle, his eyes were anything but dead. They were desperate and sad and furious. "I need to know. I need to know how the hell they could do this."

"You think this is what we wanted?" Elizabeth asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. "I can't make decisions for you. I can't make you leave a man who treats you like garbage, but it's not right to put innocent children, who have no choice, in that kind of danger. We came to see if you'd reconsider now that you understand what this man has cost you."

"What _I've_ cost him?" Carlisle said. "I love your son. I would _never_ want to see him hurt in any way, let alone this. How could you have done this to him? It's unforgivable."

"And I suppose you find beating him and _using_ him forgivable?" Ed stepped into Carlisle's personal space, his stance intimidating. "As always, you're good at ignoring your responsibility. You should be in jail for what you've done, and you're blaming us?"

Edward stepped between them, forcing both of them to step back. "There is no one here to blame except you. My kids, Dad. Do you understand? You got my kids taken away from me because you don't listen. You don't _hear._ My son and my daughter. I'm never going to…" His voice cracked, and he put his hands to his mouth, his expression twisting from one of rage to one of agony. "I'm never going to see them again. You did that. _You._ " He stumbled backward, almost as if he couldn't hold himself up. Carlisle put an arm around his waist, holding him up, holding on to him because if he didn't occupy his hands, he was going to break something.

"What have you been saying all along? This is your choice. That's what you want us to hear, right?" Ed said, his eyes narrowed at his son. "You want to be this asshole's punching bag? I suppose that's your business. But you deal with the consequences of that like a man. You don't get to cry about a choice you made. You wanted to be a father, then you have to think about what's best for them, even if you won't think about what's best for you."

"You don't get to tell me about what's best for me or my kids," Edward shouted. "Do you even understand how you raised me? Do you understand that you told me since I was tiny I was bad, wrong for feeling sad, angry, any-fucking-thing? You think you're some kind of model father because I never cried, but I reached adulthood thinking a little bit of affection made me weak. _You_ are fucking _poison_. I was terrified that I'd raise my kids the way you raised me. I was glad they had Carlisle who would never hesitate to hug them, never tell them they were less because they had emotions. _You_ were something I had to overcome before I would let myself near kids. I was the risk. Me. Because of you."

"Your father was a good father," Elizabeth said

"You're fucking delusional."

"That's enough," Ed said, pointing a finger at his son. "Neither of us has done a damn thing close to what your asshole husband has done to you. We're your parents."

"No. You're fucking not. My parents are dead." Edward stepped forward, forcing his father to take a step back. "You're fucking dead to me, do you hear that?"

Carlisle was surprised when Ed just laughed. "You're disowning us? That's rich. That's what we could have done to you, maybe we should have done, when you-"

"When I came out to you? Is that what you're about to say? Are you about to suggest you deserve some kind of medal for not disowning me because I had the audacity to be gay? I know you never liked it. I know you've always wished you had a straight son. You think you're great because you were gracious enough to accept me despite of that?

"Well, guess what. What I do in my home with my husband is a part of me. I didn't decide to be gay to disappoint you. I didn't decide to be submissive to make you uncomfortable. Fuck you. For all of that. Fuck you for doing this to us because you wouldn't listen, because you wouldn't even try to understand. Fuck. You."

"Junior-"

Carlisle wrapped his arm tighter around his husband and glared at his parents. "You need to get out of our house. Now."

Ed rounded on him. "Don't you-"

"Now!" Carlisle bellowed. The shreds of his control were snapping one after another. He let go of Edward and stepped toward his father-in-law. "You want to call me cruel? Do you have any idea what you've done? Not just to your son. Your own son. How could you have seen him as a father, seen how beautiful he was with our children, and destroyed that? You destroyed our family. You think you saved those kids? How? Do you know what you sent them back to? Riley was already angry and confused; what do you think this is going to do to him? Do you understand what life is like for a foster child? How many homes the average foster child has had? You ripped them out of a stable, loving home so they could live with strangers. Strangers who have no obligation to love them. How could you do this to Edward? How could you do this to children who called you Grandpa? I'll never understand how you can live with yourself."

"That's-" Ed started to say, but Carlisle was done. He was so done.

"I don't want to hear a word from either of you ever again. Get out. Get out of my fucking house." He stepped forward, and if Ed and Elizabeth hadn't stumbled backward, he would have pushed them. "Get out, and if I ever see you near either of us again, I swear, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Ed sneered, mirroring Carlisle's stance with his hands clutched in fists at his side. "Yes, such a pacifist you've married, Edward. Speaking of delusions."

"You hurt our children. You destroyed our family. Fuck pacifism, and fuck you." Edward stepped past them to the door. He pushed it open. "Out. Get out." He was the one who shoved at his father. "Get away from me. I can't stand the sight of you." When his parents were out on the stoop, he stared them down. "I will hate you for this for as long as I live," he said and slammed the door in their faces. He locked both the locks and slammed his palm hard against the door.

The house was silent. It was the most horrible silence Carlisle had ever heard. The only sound in the room now was their ragged breaths.

Edward didn't turn around. His hands were braced on the door. His head was bowed. His shoulders were rigid.

"You can always come home to us, Junior. Edward. Son," Elizabeth called through the door, her voice strained.

Edward slammed his palm on the door. "Get out! Get out! Get the fuck away from me!" He hit the door repeatedly, the sound loud enough that it had to have hurt his hand.

That sent Carlisle in motion. He took Edward by the wrist, simultaneously wrapping his arms around him and pulling him backward against his chest.

Edward crumpled like a rag doll, as if his fury had been the only thing keeping him going. Carlisle sank with him to the floor in their foyer. He could feel the sharp rise and fall of Edward's shoulders as he gasped for air.

When Edward broke, he did it with a scream. Suddenly, Carlisle understood why he hadn't been able to find any words before. There were no words for this. Nothing could make sense of what this felt like, but this, Edward's howl of rage, bewilderment, and absolute heartbreak, was exactly what it sounded like.

Hearing it, Carlisle broke, too. He rested his head on Edward's hunched back. They screamed. And cried. And sobbed together. They clutched at each other, as though trying to escape this incredible pain under each other's skin.

There was no escape from it. The pain didn't lessen, didn't loosen its hold at all. There was no way to wrap his head around this reality. Every part of him wanted to reject it.

"How?" Edward, turned by then so his head was buried at Carlisle's shoulder, said in a rasp of a voice. "How?"

Carlisle understood perfectly what he was asking. How had this happened to them? How was this real? How the hell were they going to survive it?

At some point, they were going to have to pick themselves up off this floor. They were going to have to put one foot in front of the other, go to work, pay their bills. They were going to have to keep breathing, keep living.

How they were going to do any of that, Carlisle had no idea.

* * *

 **A/N: My docs are full of rage, let me tell you. Thank you to Songster, jessypt, MoH, barburella, and Mina for all their help.**

 ***hugs you all***


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Good morning! I'm off to go play with Cris for a minute this morning. Hope you all have a lovely week. Oh, and… *hugs***

* * *

It was Siobhan who called Bella and Esme. She did it as a courtesy, thinking they likely wouldn't want to see her take all of Riley and Bree's things away. Edward and Carlisle found that out later. At the time, they were bordering on catatonic.

They'd gotten as far as the couch, but neither of them had been able to find the will to move for hours. Some very distant part of Edward recognized that he was in shock, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. His eyes and throat ached from crying and screaming. He was just… done. He felt nothing but a deep, raw ache at the center of his chest.

"Come on, sweethearts. Let's get you upstairs," Esme said. Edward couldn't see her. He really couldn't see anything, though he was vaguely aware Bella was in front of him, trying to pull him to his feet.

"I have to take care of Edward," Carlisle mumbled, obviously unaware his husband was right next to him.

"I have him this time," Bella said, grunting as she put Edward's arm around her shoulder. His legs felt wobbly, but he remained upright with her considerable help.

The women got them both upstairs. Bella figured out they could follow simple orders. She put a glass of water in Edward's hands, wrapped his fingers around it. She put something in his other hand. It was pill-shaped. Larger than ibuprofen. Sleeping pill?

Edward didn't care.

"Swallow it," Bella said, and Edward obeyed.

It felt like a rock in his throat. Edward closed his eyes. He really hoped it was a sleeping pill. He wanted to sleep through this. Whatever this was. He wanted to wake up when it was all over. There was no part of him that wanted to live this hellacious experience.

"Lay down," Bella said, her hand on his chest.

Again, Edward obeyed. He felt the shift of the bed, heard the rustle of blankets and Esme coaxing Carlisle beside him. He turned onto his side automatically and opened his eyes. Carlisle was watching him, but in a strange, remote way. Edward stared right back. He couldn't reach his emotions, couldn't feel the love he had for this man, but he knew he would rather be there with him than without.

It should have scared him that he was so detached he couldn't feel anything for his beloved husband. He _wanted_ to be scared. He had to settle for the fact he could still breathe. That seemed to be all he was capable of.

"You can sleep," Esme said, caressing Carlisle's hair and then reaching across him to brush Edward's cheek with her fingertips. "We'll be here, okay?" They tucked them in and left the room, the door closing with a quiet snick.

Carlisle was still staring at him, though Edward could see his eyelids were getting as heavy as his felt. It seemed to take great effort, but Carlisle raised a hand. He took a deep, shuddering breath and began to trace Edward's features with a gentle touch. "Edward," he whispered.

Edward used the very last of his energy to close the distance between them. He draped his arm over Carlisle's waist and studied the details of his face.

He was afraid, Edward realized dimly. It was a fear so large it couldn't be contained by his body. It loomed over him, around him, threatening total consumption. He'd lost too much today, so much it had changed his perception of the world. He'd lost his children, his parents, and a whole life he'd cherished. If this coldness that had taken residence at the center of his chest stole his love for his husband…

Shuddering, Edward let his eyes drift closed. He had no fight left in him. With whatever tiny shred of hope he could muster, he wished that when he opened his eyes again, at least the love would be back, bringing some warmth to his frozen world.

 _ **~0~**_

They stayed in their room for five days straight with the blinds drawn. For the most part, they were silent. They stared off into space more often than not, but sometimes, they stared at each other. They sat on the small couch tucked into one corner of their room-Edward had to try hard to forget how many Saturdays Riley had sat there, babbling cheerfully while one of them dressed Bree for the day-and each watched the other. They touched-tentative brushes of hands over knees, arms, face. It felt better to be touching Carlisle. Not good; just better than not.

Bella and Esme made sure they were rarely alone. Someone was always there - Emmett and Rosalie, Garrett and Kate. They cooked-though neither Edward nor Carlisle ever ate much, just enough to keep their friends off their backs-and kept the room tidy. Emmett brought them bourbon once, and Edward drank too much of it far too quickly, driving himself to a drunken stupor. One of the women must have gotten angry about it-Carlisle had only looked at him sadly-because Emmett never brought them booze again.

Their friends seemed to have picked up on their need for silence. Occasionally, though, they tried to bridge the gap.

"There has to be something we can do," Esme had said the day after they lost their kids. "Some recourse."

"She's right. This is bullshit," Bella said. "There has to be some appeal process or you could even sue them."

Edward had slammed his palm against the wall. "There's nothing. We're fucked. There's no undoing this."

There really wasn't. As a private agency, the foster service had every right to do what they'd done. It was a source of bitter irony for Edward and Carlisle. They'd chosen a private agency because they had more resources, more funding, and an interest in protecting their assets-the foster parents. However, they also had the ability to simply terminate any relationship they didn't want to deal with. It was all over the documents they'd signed when they agreed to become foster parents.

It was true that they could have sued on a civil level. It was discrimination, after all. But they were never going to find a lawyer who was willing to defend a couple of homosexual sadomasochists. Even if they did, then what? They would have their private life dragged out in painful detail to be dissected and judged. Again. There was every chance that their employers and vanilla friends would discover their secret; who knew what would come of that? And for what? A civil court could only award them damages. Edward and Carlisle had money; they wanted their children back in their arms.

On top of all that, and probably no small contributor to the foster agency's decision, Edward's father was a lawyer. Not in the same county, and he didn't practice family law, but he was the type who knew people who knew people. He had influence, and he had made it clear he would fight to make sure Carlisle could never abuse an innocent child. That had come out during their meeting with Mr. Newton. If the agency decided to let this incident slide, Ed had promised to make sure the county got involved. If the county got involved, lawyers and judges would follow .

No. They were well and truly, irrevocably fucked. They had never had any rights to the children, and so they had no recourse at all. Riley and Bree were lost to them. It was done.

Thankfully, after that, no one tried to fix the problem. There was no fixing it. They simply had to figure out how to survive it. For himself, Edward was having trouble stringing two words together. He didn't know how to form a complex plan when he couldn't think straight.

On the fifth day, when Edward woke up, the quiet of the house bothered him. Their friends did leave them alone at night, so Edward expected the house to be quiet then. Now, though, it was the middle of the day.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Behind him, Carlisle's breaths were even. He was still asleep. Edward made his way to the door. He hesitated. He had no idea why he was so reluctant. A part of him expected to find the world had crumbled to some post-apocalyptic dystopia while he slept.

He turned the knob and stepped out into the open hallway for the first time in days.

The house was, indeed, empty. They were alone, but that wasn't what had Edward's heart seizing. Pain hit him so hard, his knees nearly buckled. He gripped the banister as he stared down over the open family room.

He had no idea how long he'd stood there, but he jumped when he felt a touch to the small of his back. Carlisle came to stand beside him, and his breath too was ragged as he looked down.

They had known, of course, that Siobhan had come to take Riley and Bree's things away. More than that, Edward had a vague memory of Esme or Bella telling them that they had put a few things away in the attic.

Apparently, what they'd meant by that was that they had taken all the things the foster agency didn't want-the toy chest, the children's playsets and furniture-and hidden them away. The house was neat and clean, back to the way it had looked before they had children. As if Riley and Bree had never been there at all.

Would it have been better if they'd left it all out? Would it be better if their playthings, never to be played with again, were there as a constant reminder of what they'd lost?

Either way, the emotion that swept over Edward then was too much. He had a crazy urge to claw it out from under his skin. He would have, if he'd thought it would do any good. He would have torn his flesh from his body in order not to feel this way.

He turned on his heel, ducking out of Carlisle's loose hold, and headed back to their room, to the bathroom. He found the keys to the cabinet-the foster agency required cleaning products and medications to be locked away-and unlocked the drawers with fingers that shook too hard to make the task quick.

"What are you doing?" Carlisle asked. It was almost strange to hear his voice after so long.

"I need... Dammit!" Edward had dropped the keys. He picked them up, clenching them tightly in his fist as he guided the right one into the lock. "Meds. I need fucking meds."

Two years before, Edward had broken his leg in a skiing accident. Doctors tended to prescribe other doctors with the good stuff, and so Edward's pain meds had been of the unnecessarily strong variety. He'd only used them a couple of times, and so he knew there was a mostly full bottle of pills in here somewhere.

Carlisle got to his knees beside him and took him by the wrists, stopping his desperate search. "No, Edward. No. Don't… don't do that."

Edward yanked his hands free and tried to go back to searching only to be stopped again. "Dammit. Cut it out. I just… I need one." They made him loopy. That was why he'd stopped taking them in the first place, but now, loopy sounded like heaven.

"Edward." Carlisle got his arms around Edward's chest and pulled him backward. They ended up in a heap on the floor, limbs tangled. Edward tried to scramble away, but his husband held on tighter.

"I don't want to feel this," Edward said. He recognized his voice was a thin whine, and he hated it. He hated how out of control he felt, and he couldn't stop shaking. After days of numbness, this was too much. All he wanted was to dull the edge. Was that really so much to ask?

"Please don't do this." Carlisle readjusted his grip. He straightened up enough to lean against the wall, pulling Edward back against his chest. He ducked his head, his lips close to Edward's ear. "Don't start down this path. Not even a step. You can't check out. Don't pull away from me. Please, baby. I need you."

Edward wanted to tell Carlisle he was being ridiculous and melodramatic. All he wanted was one pill, one time. Just once. The sight of the house had taken him by surprise, and it was too much. It wasn't as though he could be shocked all over again.

But he was smart enough to recognize what was happening here. Here he was, a grown man, struggling in his husband's arms with a desperation that bordered on violent. All for what? Because he needed a pill to dull his thoughts, his mental anguish? He wasn't even close to rational, and if he couldn't begin to deal with this crippling agony now, what made him think he was ever going to start?

Edward slumped, the fight going out of him. He leaned into Carlisle's embrace, his breathing ragged, on the verge of tears again. Carlisle readjusted his grip, no longer restraining, but holding. He rocked them, his cheek resting against Edward's.

Christ, they must have been a sight, huddled on the floor as they were. Neither one of them had shaved in five days. At Esme and Bella's prompting, they'd showered, but they hadn't tried to comb their hair. Edward couldn't remember if he'd brushed his teeth that morning or sometime the day before.

The rough scratch of Carlisle's beard tickled Edward's neck as his husband nuzzled him. Edward tilted his head back in response, and he felt Carlisle's lips at his skin. He shivered. He'd almost forgotten what intimacy felt like. He closed his eyes and sighed, concentrating for a minute not on the overwhelming grief that pummeled him, but on the soft, tender touch.

His husband, his love, was still here, wrapped around him. He remembered his far-away fear from days before, when he had looked at his beautiful husband and couldn't access the deep emotion he always felt for the man. Carlisle framed Edward's body with his, pressing chest to back, enclosing him in the parentheses of his legs, and kept his arms locked around him. Concentrating on that lifted the veil that had fallen between Edward and his love for this man. He hadn't lost it, he realized. It was still there, safe and warm-the only source of warmth in his otherwise cold, dead heart. It was small but vibrant, strong. Hiding, he realized, not damaged.

Edward lifted his arms to put his hands over Carlisle's. He turned his head so he could kiss his cheek.

"I have you, baby," Carlisle said. "I'm here."

"I'm here too," Edward said, kissing his lips. The words were a promise. Devastated though he was, he knew he had a choice. He could fight or give in.

Edward made his decision right then. He was going to fight. Tooth and nail, he was going to fight. He didn't know what he was fighting, but he knew that every reason he had to fight was wrapped around him, loving him. Carlisle was worth it. In the end, it was an easy choice. He would remember how to be a human being again, because this wonderful man was worth that, even if nothing else in the world was.

* * *

 **A/N: Hugs for everyone. *hugs hugs hugs***


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Happy Friday, my darlings.**

* * *

Carlisle let Esme take him out provided that Emmett and Bella stayed with Edward. He knew he needed to get his act together. He didn't want to leave his husband, but his best friend convinced him they both needed someone else to vent to.

She drove, and he watched the world outside go by. They passed a park, and Carlisle shuddered. He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the last time they'd been there. The park was close enough to walk-only a few blocks-and they'd walked with Edward and Carlisle each holding Riley's hand with baby Bree strapped to Edward's chest. Carlisle could still feel the weight of Riley as he jumped up, suspending himself between them. Giggling gleefully.

He missed his son. He missed his daughter.

Sucking in a deep breath, Carlisle scrambled for his phone.

"What are you doing?" Esme asked, glancing over from her position in the driver's seat.

"I'm texting Edward to see if he's okay."

"Honey, we haven't even been gone five minutes."

"I know, but maybe he didn't want me to leave. Or maybe he's changed his mind."

Esme reached over and patted his knee. "He's fine. I'm only stealing you for an hour, okay?"

Carlisle slumped, his hand over his eyes. He felt so out of sorts. As if he had no idea how the world worked anymore. "Right. Of course. It'll be fine."

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated across from each other at a quiet diner. Carlisle had ordered a cup of coffee, but so far he had only stared at the blackness. It was cupped between his hands, the heat almost too uncomfortable to bear but not quite.

WIthout a word, Esme took the coffee from his hands. She added one cream and two sugars and pushed it back to him. He was distracted by the swell of the cream turning dark liquid to light. He sighed. "I was so out of it, Esme. I almost didn't stop him." His breath stuttered. "It was like waking up. I saw him, and I knew what he was doing. What he wanted." He shook his head. "I almost missed it. I was just standing there watching him for the longest time, staring. I almost just let it happen, because I couldn't blame him. How could I blame him for that? I almost missed it."

"Carlisle. You're babbling," Esme said, her words gentle.

He tightened his hands around his coffee cup and pressed his lips together. "It's just that I should have seen it coming. Edward has always struggled with his feelings, and this is so much. This is too much to feel." He rubbed at his chest, but there was nothing that could soothe this ache. "I know him. He wants to turn it off. There's still a part of him that thinks he should be able to. He's fighting it now, but I'm worried."

Carlisle swallowed hard, staring at nothing. "We're going to go back to work, and maybe that'll help, you know? It might be a distraction. Maybe it won't be enough of a distraction. Or maybe it will be too much stress. He's fighting this need to turn off his emotions, but you can only fight for so long before you get too tired."

"Carlisle?"

He blinked and raised his head to look at her.

"All of those things are true of you too, you know."

It was an obvious statement, but he wasn't sure what her point was. "What?" he asked.

She pressed her hands over his around the coffee cup. "You know how much I love you. I've never met anyone so compassionate and giving. You're so good at taking care of everyone's needs. Your husband, your patients, me. So I'm going to ask you to do something for me."

"What do you need?" he asked, still lost about where she was going with all this.

"I need you to remember that this happened to you, too. Yes, of course. Look after your husband. Be there for him, but please promise me you won't forget about you."

Carlisle opened his mouth to say he was fine-he hadn't been the one desperate for pills-but the words twisted before he could get them out. He closed his mouth and looked down again, a thick wave of emotion making his eyes sting. "I don't know how to deal with this. I have no context for this. I can't cope with the fact there's nothing I can do. That a man like the director could make a decision like that, and there's nothing. I drove them there. I drove us all there, and it never occurred to me I'd be driving away without my kids. I didn't realize I could lose them in a heartbeat like that."

He balled his hands in fists. "And if that's not enough to drive me insane, there's this… hate." His jaw clenched, and he had to work hard to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I've never had hate in my heart, but oh god, I hate his parents, Esme. If ever I was to do something violent…"

Esme's hands over his were the only things that kept him grounded. It was a struggle, but he managed to regulate his breathing after a minute. "I don't know what to do with any of that. There's nothing I _can_ do." Another shaky breath. "But I can take care of Edward. I can do that. I'm good at that, I think."

She squeezed his hands before she pulled back. "You're very good at it. I'm just asking you to remember that it's okay to need things from him too."

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward rubbed his temples. It was situations like this that really highlighted who his true friends were. Emmett's attention had been surprising. Not because he wasn't a good guy. He was a great guy, but he tended to shy away from the serious things.

When he mentioned it, Edward was doubly surprised when the man's expression turned straight out somber. "Hits kind of close to home," he said, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "Rose and I found out recently she probably can't carry a pregnancy to term."

"Oh." Edward squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I mean, it's not, but we're working through it. The thing is, we've been looking at all our other options, you know? It's… this is kind of the worst fear, right?"

Edward huffed, letting his hands fall down to his lap. "I wouldn't worry too much, Emmett. Mostly, these things work out."

Emmett, after all, wasn't a deviant like he was, Edward thought bitterly. His friend wasn't aware of the particulars of what had happened. He knew that Edward's parents had alleged abuse, and had accepted that it was Ed's connections as a lawyer that had been the biggest deciding factor-why would the agency's director want to deal with a headache if he didn't have to? While Edward wanted to believe Emmett would understand if he were to tell him the whole truth, there was no part of him that wanted to test that theory.

No, Edward was more paranoid than ever about that part of his life. He hadn't really thought about it before. He didn't flaunt it, of course. He was careful, when he was in the locker room at work, to keep any marks hidden. Now, though, he had to wonder what else he could possibly lose if people who were supposed to love him knew his secret.

Luckily, Bella came back into the room then, distracting him from that line of thought. She sat beside him and began to rub his neck. He sighed, trying to find some measure of comfort in her gentle touch.

"You know, this situation is as fucked up as it gets, but it's like icing on the shit cake that anyone could think that of Carlisle of all people," Emmett said. "I mean, have they spent time around the guy at all? We had a man once-Carlisle had to tell him his wife passed away on his table, and the man lost it. He started pushing Carlisle around, shoving him, kind of smacking at him. We got the guy off him, but Carlisle never raised a hand. I asked him why, and he said the man was already in enough pain. Doesn't that just beat all? He wouldn't even defend himself against a belligerent man, and they want to believe he hit you? I mean, I get that people are different at home. What happens behind closed doors and all that-"

"He's no different at home," Edward said, his words harsh. He turned on his friends, fury roaring in his ears. "Don't you dare even begin to think-"

Emmett held his hands up. "I said I can't believe it. I never would."

Reading the sincerity in his friend's face, Edward slumped. "Sorry. I just...It bugs me. I know what it sounds like second hand. My parents accused my husband of abuse, and our kids are gone." The words were difficult to say. He had to pause and swallow around the pain of them. "You have to wonder."

Emmett shook his head vehemently. "No. I don't wonder. He's a good man, and neither of you deserve this. It was shitty, fucked up circumstance. That's all."

Edward took a shaky breath, his elbows on his knees as he tried again to wrap his head around everything that had happened. "I can't stand that anyone would think of him that way."

"I think that's what Emmett was trying to say," Bella said, rubbing his back now. "Abusers are good at fooling people, but Carlisle? No. It's unthinkable."

Edward leaned against her. "I'm worried about him. I think he internalizes a lot of bad things about himself."

Carlisle's father blamed him for his mother's death. To an extent, Carlisle blamed himself. He'd dealt with his issues of self-worth long before Edward met him, but scars only faded, never disappeared. It was there in the way Carlisle had been so worried that he would do something wrong early in their relationship. It was there in the extremes of the guilt he felt when Edward was accidentally injured during a scene.

Edward knew Carlisle had been a submissive when he first entered the scene. He'd wondered more than once if Carlisle had made the switch to Dom because some part of him thought he didn't deserve that kind of attention and care. As Carlisle's submissive, Edward couldn't imagine another human being had ever felt so treasured. His husband was aware of his every need, concentrated on his comfort and fulfillment.

That was how Carlisle derived pleasure and contentment with himself-caring, not being cared for.

Bella scratched her fingers through his hair. "Just remember you're partners. It's going to be hard sometimes, because you're dealing with this huge _thing_ yourself. Remember to tell him often how much you love him and why. Make sure he feels loved." She looked him in the eyes. "Take care of him."

Edward's lips quirked. Trust Bella to guess his line of thought. He hugged her. "I will."

 _ **~0~**_

When their friends left, Edward was struck for the millionth time by the silence. He hated silence now. He wondered if Carlisle would object to leaving the TV on just to have noise in the room. They were an environmentally conscious couple, and didn't leave anything electronic on when it wasn't being used, but maybe they could make an exception for a little while. Just until it got easier to breathe with glass shards lining his lungs.

When he turned to bring it up, he was startled to find his husband's features bathed in darkness. He swallowed a groan, realizing it had happened again. He'd lost time. The early evening light had still been bright enough to light the room when their friends left. They'd been sitting there in silence for at least half an hour, probably closer to an hour.

Edward took another minute to watch his husband breathe. He tried not to dwell on the sadness in his eyes, but simply studied him.

He was beautiful, this man, inside and out. Even looking disheveled and worn, even stooped with grief, he was beautiful. Looking at him, Edward wrapped himself around the deep, passionate love he felt for his husband and determined to push everything else aside, if only for a few minutes.

Edward stood and went to stand in front of Carlisle. His husband looked up, blinking, startled. Edward put his hands on his shoulders to steady himself and straddled Carlisle.

"Baby. What-" But anything else Carlisle might have said was cut off when Edward kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, tender, and despite his position, Edward had no intention of making this about sex. No, neither of them had the heart for that just yet. Not yet.

But there were many other ways than sex to express what he felt. He took Carlisle's face in his hands. He could see his husband was still confused and maybe a little bit worried-likely he didn't want Edward to push for sex because he didn't want to have to reject him. Tilting his head, Edward brushed the tip of their noses together. He inhaled deeply, breathing in his warm, clean scent.

Edward let his thumbs trace the outline of Carlisle's neck and settle in the divots of his shoulders. He pressed and kneaded lightly even as he drew his nose along Carlisle's cheek.

Carlisle exhaled with a shiver, and his eyes closed. Edward pressed a soft kiss to each of them. He continued in this vein, alternately kissing and nuzzling Carlisle's face. After another minute, Edward felt Carlisle's hands slip beneath his shirt. He splayed his palms wide and warm against his back, just feeling.

In another minute, Carlisle tightened his hold. He lay back, bringing Edward with him so they were horizontal on the couch. His hands began to explore Edward's back, his touch just as slow and soft as Edward's nuzzles and kisses were.

These last few days, Edward had thought often that he would never feel good again. Surely the pain of losing his children would overshadow everything else forever.

It didn't, though. The pain was still there. His chest still ached as though someone had mistaken his lungs and heart for a stress ball and was attempting to squeeze the life out of him. If he let himself think for a fraction of a second, he would still feel the maddening rage that often threatened to consume him. But his love and adoration for his husband glowed brighter than all of that. Bright enough to hold his attention.

Edward raised his head from Carlisle's neck and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, but a serious one. He lingered, his mouth moving with his husband's, unhurried. Carlisle sighed into his mouth, more of the tension going out of him. He wrapped his arms around Edward, holding him tightly.

Edward had every intention of following Bella's advice. He would tell Carlisle how much he loved him and why, all the million and one reasons why. He would take care of his husband.

For now, though, it was enough to show him. Show him he was loved, adored, and cherished, the way he always made Edward feel.

* * *

 **A/N: Forward motion. Yes? Maybe?**

 **Many thanks to my girls: Jessypt, MoH, Mina, Packy, Barburella, and Songster.**

 **And thanks to you guys. How are you doing?**


	8. Chapter 8

**FAQ: Shouldn't Carlisle and Edward sue? A: I briefly went over that in a previous chapter. Yes, of course they could sue. However, a lawsuit would drag their personal life into the public eye. It wouldn't be difficult for their vanilla friends and their employers to find out. In other words, there could be other repercussions. They have to weigh that chance with the possible outcome. Note, the best possible outcome is** _ **not**_ **getting their children back. They were never the children's legal guardians, so they have** _ **no**_ **rights when it comes to only thing they could hope to gain is money, and I think you might agree that going through a lengthy and embarrassing lawsuit is not what the boys need right now.**

* * *

Being busy doctors with demanding schedules, Carlisle and Edward rarely got those slow-start mornings where they had the luxury of drifting back to consciousness. At first, Carlisle only knew that he was warm. Not overheated, but that content kind of warm with the sun filtering in through the window and the blankets bunched around his waist.

The familiar pattern of Edward's sleep-noises was a comfort to him. He rolled over, his eyes still closed, and let his arm drape around Edward's waist. He snuggled closer, and began to trail soft kisses-mere brushes of his lips-across Edward's back. Edward sighed in his sleep, and Carlisle let his fingers trace designs against his husband's stomach.

By that time, consciousness had a firmer grasp on him. It didn't take much thought to be intimate with his husband, but he was beginning to wonder what was going on. What had brought this rare peaceful morning? Did one of them have an appointment to get to sooner than later? A shift? And why wasn't Riley up by now?

Carlisle's eyes flew open, and he rolled onto his back that same instant. He braced himself, but it was no use. Loss hit him with the same devastating violence it did every time he had to remember his children were gone.

It happened surprisingly often given that the pain of grief, his anger, his helpless frustration were all constant companions. Still, there were those moments of muscle memory, the thoughts and actions that had become ingrained in the eight months they'd had with Riley and Bree. He caught himself scanning the room automatically when he had no shoes on, looking for renegade Legos or other feet-destroying toys. Other days when he woke to his alarm, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rose to get Bree ready, remembering only after he'd taken a few steps that his daughter was in someone else's house.

Had their new foster parents figured out Bree's favorite game? How she loved it when Edward or Carlisle named parts of their face-nose, cheek, ears-and she would kiss them there? Could it only have been a week before that they'd last played that game?

Carlisle ran a hand over his eyes, remembering Riley getting in on the action. He wiggled his way between Edward and Bree and collected kisses from his sister. "Nose….Chin….Butt!" And he had waved his butt in her face. Bree, giggling at her brother's antics, still obediently kissed his butt.

With a sigh, Carlisle got out of bed. He trudged to the bathroom. He tried not to think about what his kids were doing, if they were smiling, if they were happy.

As he showered, he tried to concentrate on other things. Mundane things. He poured shampoo into his hand, methodically massaging every inch of his scalp. He flipped through songs in his head, trying to find a good one to sing in the shower-if he were ever to sing in the shower, which he never had.

Edward sang in the shower. Carlisle remembered the first time he heard woke one morning-very shortly after his sub had become his boyfriend-to hear Edward's clear tenor belting out, "I love you, baby, and if it's quite all right, I need you baby, to warm the lonely nights."

The corner of Carlisle's mouth twitched with that memory, and he sighed again, leaning his head against the cool tile. It was confusing to have something as deep and beautiful as his love for his husband strong in his heart at the same time as his agony over losing his children. He wanted to smile, but smiling felt wrong. His love for Edward always made him feel as though he could fly, but the weight on his shoulders threatened to squash him flat.

Carlisle turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and leaned up against the counter, staring at his reflection.

After a little over a week of mourning, he and Edward had agreed to try a half day of work. Somehow, the world had kept on moving even while their world shattered, and it was time to rejoin the human race.

Carlisle scratched his fingers through his many-days growth of beard. He looked… not well. The thick beard did nothing to hide his sallow skin, and it only made his eyes appear more sunken. It wasn't a sight that would assure any patients.

It didn't take much thought to identify the sick feeling that churned in his gut as he shaved. This step, the first real step toward healing and being whole again, felt like a betrayal. He'd failed Riley and Bree, and even Edward. It felt wrong that he should get to put his life back together.

It also felt impossible. How could there be such a thing as being whole again when Riley and Bree had taken a huge chunk of his heart and soul with them?

Carlisle had almost spaced out-he was standing still with his beard three-fourths gone and the electric razor buzzing a fraction of an inch from his face-when Edward's arms locking around his waist brought him back to Earth. He watched in the mirror as Edward kissed his back and leaned his head against his shoulder, holding him. His presence and his love gave Carlisle the strength he needed. He relished Edward's weight against him, his hot breath on his skin. Neither of them spoke. They didn't have to.

When he was done, Carlisle turned around. He gathered Edward close to him, tilting their foreheads together. Throughout all this mess, this was the closest Carlisle got to happy-when he held his husband close, breathed the same air, and occupied the same space.

Edward raised his hands to Carlisle's cheeks. He brushed his thumbs over the freshly-shaved skin, feeling the contours of Carlisle's face. "There you are," he said.

Carlisle lifted his head to study Edward. The other man's beard was rather impressive for only a week's growth. In other times, when they had a few days vacation or Edward had just gotten lazy, Carlisle had enjoyed the roughness of his whiskers as they kissed and...well, whatnot. Now, though, they were a physical manifestation of crippling grief. Nothing good. Nothing welcome.

"Come here," he said. Taking Edward's hand he led him to sit on the edge of the tub. Smoothing his hair back affectionately, Carlisle left him only briefly to get what he needed from under the sink.

Edward chuckled-the sound wry and humorless-as Carlisle began to trim down his beard. He cut in haphazard chunks, just wanting to thin it out to make shaving easier. "Are you trying to say you don't like the sasquatch look?" Edward asked.

"Keep still, baby," Carlisle said, but he scratched his fingers at Edward's nape.

Edward sighed-a contented noise rather than a huff-and closed his eyes.

The next few minutes were peaceful and soothing. The silence didn't seem so awful just then. Rather, it felt nice, intimate. There wasn't much Carlisle loved more than taking care of his boy.

When Carlisle put the scissors down, Edward opened his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow when he saw Carlisle purse his lips. "What?"

Carlisle laughed. It was an odd, strangled sound, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "You look terrible," he said.

Edward glanced around him at the mirror, and he balked. His lips quirked up, down, up, down, as though he wasn't sure if he should smile. It _was_ a funny sight. His beard was patchy and uneven-not a good look at all. "Oh, hell. You have to fix it," he said, choking around a small laugh of his own.

Carlisle kissed the top of his hair, lingering there a moment. "Of course," he said.

He shook the shaving cream and squirted a dollop into his palm. Carefully, he smoothed it over Edward's cheeks, under his nose, across the underside of his chin. He spread it on thick, caressing as he went.

Edward watched him, silent but intent. The air around them sparked with familiar warmth and want. Carlisle took a deep breath. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous. This man was his husband, his love. It should hardly be so surprising to feel the stirring of passion for him, to want to kiss him, shaving cream be damned. To want… more.

There was some comfort in the fact he thought Edward was on the same page. His eyes were dark, tinged over with lust, but also uncertain.

Foregoing the electric razor, Carlisle picked up a fresh disposable razor. He stepped in close, slotting one leg between Edward's, and tilted his husband's head up. As he worked, Edward's eyes stayed riveted to him, so much so that Carlisle found it difficult to concentrate. He wasn't quite sure how, but the slide of the razor against Edward's cheek, the way he stripped away cream and hair to expose fresh skin, was erotic.

Minutes passed in heavy, heated silence. Carlisle put the razor down and took his husband's clean-shaven face in his hands.

 _There you are,_ Edward had said. Apt words. _This_ was his husband. They'd needed time to retreat, to hide from the world and themselves. But now, here they were again. Vulnerable without even that little bit of armor. Open to each other.

Edward touched him, the movements tentative, feeling his smooth cheeks and chin again. Carlisle did the same. After a few moments of this, he ducked his head and kissed his husband with a gentle pressure.

This time, the kiss lingered, turned more serious. Carlisle hooked his hands underneath Edward's elbows and guided him to his feet. Edward's arms wound around him, spread across his back. When Carlisle pressed with his tongue, Edward opened his mouth to him.

A thrill went down Carlisle's spine, a jolt of energy that cut through his lethargy. With his hands at Edward's waist, he turned them. He walked Edward backward a few paces, and pressed him up against the wall next to the shower. Edward muffled a moan against his lips, and his hands fell to cup Carlisle's ass.

With a hungry growl, Carlisle thrust his hips forward, pinning Edward, grinding. It was as though he simply hadn't realized until then he was ravenous, and Edward was the only thing he wanted. Needed. The way Edward was clutching at him, eagerly matching his kiss, bucking up against him, Carlisle figured he wasn't alone in his need.

As quickly as it had all begun, though, Carlisle broke their kiss with a gasp. He took several steps backward, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

"Carlisle?" Edward asked, his voice breathless and confused.

Carlisle squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He wanted to turn back to him, but he was momentarily too flustered and frustrated. He couldn't have explained himself even if he wanted to, and he very much didn't.

Edward put a hand to his shoulder, and Carlisle cringed away. Suddenly, he _needed_ to be out of there. Their bathroom wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination, but it was stifling to him right then. "We need… I... " Carlisle swallowed. He opened his eyes, but he didn't look at Edward. "We need to get ready for work."

"I… okay," Edward said.

"I'll make us something to eat. You should shower."

"Okay," Edward said again, his voice soft.

Carlisle paused. He could feel Edward's eyes on him, but he didn't know what to do about it. He was just so out of sorts.

He turned and left the room without another word.

 _ **~0~**_

Carlisle's strange behavior in the bathroom was far from baffling. Rather, Edward supposed it wasn't unexpected, but only because nothing was unexpected. This situation they were faced with, this thing that had happened to them, was far too much to grapple with, and Edward's own moods spanned a strange and terrible spectrum.

It wasn't as though it would even make sense for Edward to ask Carlisle what was wrong. He knew the answer to that question. Their children had been ripped from their arms, and that was only the start of their trauma. It set off a slew of side issues, like rivulets flowing off the main rapids except they flowed in raging torrents instead of babbling creeks.

Edward was worried and maddened about his children-were their new foster parents treating them well? How were they coping? How was Riley handling any of this? Their angry, stubborn little boy needed a firm but also loving and patient hand. Did their new parents understand that?

And Bree. It wasn't simply about keeping her fed, clothed, changed, and safe. Were they teaching her? She was a sponge, learning something new and incredible every day. Were her new parents feeding her curious mind?

Would she remember Edward and Carlisle? She probably wouldn't, and while that was a mercy, it was also one of the most agonizing thoughts Edward had ever known.

All of that was only the beginning. Edward was also a man who loved his parents, like any grown boy did. The thought he would never see them again was unfathomable and yet…

He hated them. Christ, he hated them so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Hate and love. Worry. Grief. Frustration. To say his head was chaotic was a gross understatement. So, no. He couldn't say he was shocked by whatever had happened to Carlisle in the bathroom.

He also couldn't say why it stuck out, why that, more than anything, had worried him. But it was just one more thing, one more unanswerable question, and that day, Edward had other things to worry about.

Work.

Putting aside the fact Edward's concentration wasn't at its peak, he had a lot more pressing fears. The last eight months had taught him people had very firm opinions about what constituted a parent. A foster child wasn't the same as an adoptive child, wasn't the same as a biological child, depending on who was asked.

When everything had first happened, Edward's direct supervisor had been almost completely unsympathetic. The children weren't dead, so no kind of bereavement applied. They were also not Edward's children-never had been-so he didn't understand what Edward was struggling with.

Incoherent with grief at the time, Edward had been lucky. Esme had grabbed the phone from him and started yelling. Rendered mute and numb by his supervisor's callous words, Edward had no idea what the woman said. All he knew was she had eventually been put in touch with the person over Edward's direct supervisor and that woman had understood the depth of his loss.

Riley and Bree were his kids. It didn't matter that there was no paperwork explicitly stating it, his son and daughter were lost to him forever.

"Take all the time you need," she'd said.

Part of Edward thought he needed way more time than this. Another part thought that there would never be enough time, and he was going to go insane if he had to spend another day in that house, devoid as it was of children's toys and laughter. Still, he was worried. In the eight months they had the kids, Edward had heard any number of insensitive comments. At the time, they'd irritated him. Now he was afraid he'd either punch someone-the bloodlust he felt at times was unbelievable-or burst into tears.

It was Garrett who found him first. "Hey, kid. I'm glad you're here. Listen, I could use your insight on a consult."

Edward was relieved. It was an excuse to shy away from the nurses who were already looking over at him with curiosity written clearly on their features. A consult was also simple enough. Nothing too demanding, and because it was Garrett's patient and not his, Edward wasn't worried about giving his opinion.

"Excellent," Garrett said, scribbling something down in the margin of the chart. "I'll get the interns on that. Makes a lot of sense."

They walked together back toward the nurses station, Garrett intent on studying the chart for the umpteenth time. "Thank you for that," Edward said quietly.

"Mmhmm," Garrett hummed. He snapped the chart shut and looked to Edward with a sympathetic smile. "How are you?"

Edward huffed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know."

"I get that," Garrett said with a nod. He didn't press. "How about the big guy?"

Edward bit the inside of his cheek. "I don't know that either," he said quietly, replaying the scene in the bathroom for the thousandth time.

"Yeah." He looked around and took Edward by the arm, leading him into a less trafficked hallway. "So, listen. I'm going to give you this without comment, okay?" He handed Edward a card.

Edward glanced at it. He wasn't entirely surprised to see it was a psychologist. Dr. Alistair St. Clair. He looked up at Garrett and quirked an eyebrow. "You? Really?" he said without judgment.

Garrett's mouth quirked. "No. Not me. He and I… dated for a time." He looked Edward in the eyes. "You understand?"

Edward nodded. He understood. He'd met Garrett in the scene. More likely than not, Dr. St. Clair was one of Garrett's previous subs. Which meant if Carlisle and Edward decided they needed help, the doctor would be more qualified than most. Edward wasn't sure therapy was what he needed or wanted, but it was never a bad idea to keep it in mind.

He took Garrett's hand and shook it, squeezing tightly. There had been a time he really, _really_ disliked this man. He was glad they'd gotten past that. "Thank you," he said. "Really."

* * *

 **A/N: As always, thank you to Packy, Mina, JessyPT, songster, and Barburella for being almost as invested in this story as I am. Hearts.**

 **And you, my lovelies. How are you doing? Any better? There's still a bumpy ride ahead of us, but we'll get through it.**

 **Probably….**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: *holds your hand***

* * *

Edward was awake. He had been for minutes. He was also acutely aware that Carlisle had been awake at least as long as he had. They were nervous, or at least Edward assumed that his husband was on the same page and for the same reason. He assumed that was why they had both gone to bed at eleven, so they would be asleep well before the stroke of midnight.

It was Edward's thirtieth birthday-the sixth birthday he'd spent with Carlisle. The first five had been fairly blissful. Even that first year-the year he'd lost a patient and hadn't reacted well-had begun and ended happily. They'd always managed to be together at midnight, and Edward got his birthday spanking with the Baby Boy paddle Carlisle had had made for him.

That was the center of their struggle. It had been six weeks since they'd lost their children. Coping hadn't been easy. Sex had fallen by the wayside. It was hard to get in the mood when they spent every day merely trying to survive crippling grief. They were trying to reorient their world, trying to find a way to accept what had happened to them. It was an exhausting process.

Still, if it was only about the sex, Edward didn't think he'd be so nervous. He sighed and rolled onto his side, facing away from Carlisle. He was angry and frustrated and so tired of both of those emotions. There was nothing to like about this situation, but it was the unnecessary kick when he was already down that this whole _thing_ had stolen his easy intimacy with his husband.

Beside him, Carlisle shifted. Edward held his breath. He was relieved when he felt Carlisle's lips against his neck and felt his arm at his waist. At the same time, his stomach churned with nerves.

"I'm sorry, baby boy," Carlisle said, raining slow kisses along Edward's back. "I got wrapped up in my own thoughts. I didn't mean to ignore you."

Edward rolled onto his back again and found himself looking up at Carlisle in the early morning light. His husband's smile was small but adoring. He stroked his fingertips down Edward's cheeks with the lightest of caresses. "You're so beautiful," he whispered before he leaned down to kiss him.

It was a sweet kiss, one of adulation-pure worship. Edward sighed, this time with contentment, and basked in his husband's love. Neither of them tried to deepen the kiss. Their touches were light and well above the waist.

Edward's hand was splayed over Carlisle's heart, so he felt when his heartbeat quickened. Carlisle broke their kiss, leaning his head against Edward's. His eyes were closed, and he gulped audibly. "Do you…. Do you want…"

"No," Edward said, too quickly.

No, his nerves had almost nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the birthday spanking he usually relished. As much as he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, his psyche was well aware his kink had indirectly cost him his children. He would never be able to slip into subspace while that wound was so raw. Edward realized belatedly that was why he hadn't tried to initiate sex. He hadn't lost his desire or his need to express what he felt for his husband physically, but their sex life was tied to who they were as a Dom and sub.

Edward clung to Carlisle and closed his eyes. "I'm not ready for that yet," he said in a shaky voice.

Carlisle exhaled in a long gust. He leaned down, resting his weight on Edward, cuddling him close. "I… That's good. I think. I mean it's good because I think we're on the same page with that."

Again, Edward was relieved. He traced the line of Carlisle's neck with the tip of his nose. With that weighty issue tabled, he had room in his overburdened head to think about other things. Better things. Things like how his husband might have been in his mid-forties, but damn if he wasn't the hottest person Edward had ever seen.

And Edward loved him more than he knew how to say. He kissed Carlisle-slow, sensual kisses. Initiating, instigating, wanting more. Carlisle froze a moment. Doubtless he'd realized where he was being led. Despite their familiarity with each other, their deep and true love, it was just a little bit scary. Loss had changed them in ways they hadn't fully figured out yet. It wasn't that they were strangers. It was just that they had never been intimate in this way, wearing their new, damaged souls.

Edward coaxed with gentle kisses. He kept his hand on Carlisle's upper back, because he wasn't going to push. This had to be something they were both comfortable with.

It was only a few heartbeats before Carlisle kissed him back. The pressure was tentative at first, but then he let more of his weight rest on Edward, moved so their bodies were lined up. Edward bucked his hips, rubbing as his hand drifted down to run light circles over Carlisle's ass. Yes, he wanted this. He was happy to find out he was still capable of this. It would be good to be able to wrap himself in this, feel the other man move in him, with him.

Carlisle moaned, and broke their kiss, turning his head away. Edward blinked, confused because Carlisle had stopped. He was still, his body rigid. They were both panting. It took Edward a few confused moments to realize Carlisle's moan hadn't been one of pleasure.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Edward cupped the back of Carlisle's neck, stroking his thumb along the bristly hairs there. "Carlisle?"

His husband let out a long breath and raised his head slowly. "I'm fine, baby boy. I just needed a second."

Before Edward could think to question him further, Carlisle caught his lips in a kiss again. Edward made a little noise of surprise at the charge that went up his spine. It was a fervent kiss, and Edward was only too willing to slide back into the warm bubble-space that was only theirs.

Carlisle began to kiss down his body. He scraped his teeth along Edward's neck and tugged his shirt up to lick at his nipples. Edward reached back, grabbing firm hold of one of the bars of the headboard to keep him steady as he threaded the fingers of his other hand through Carlisle's hair. He gasped, writhing when Carlisle's questing lips brushed over the sensitive skin around his belly button-half tickle, half sexy licking.

"Oh, god," Edward said around a moan.

He was hard, his cock already peeking out of his loose boxers. Carlisle kissed his tip, a sweet gesture, before he took his cock in his mouth.

Edward had to work hard at keeping from fucking into his husband's mouth. He tried to relax-they had time-but he was so worked up. It had been too long, and he had missed this too much. And Jesus Christ, Carlisle had always known how to play his body.

It was only a few minutes before he had to tug at Carlisle's hair. "Babe, ah, fuck. Oh, yeah. Carlisle, I...I'm...Babe! I-" Edward's words caught in his throat as a powerful orgasm took him. He arched up with a strangled cry. His body shuddered with each pulse. His mind went blissfully blank.

He had to blink sporadically to clear the stars from his eyes. It took another few moments to understand why he was so confused.

Right. He hadn't really expected that. He'd come too quickly, and now sex would have to wait.

With a groan, he rolled over onto his side. "Sorry," he said, somewhat sheepish.

Carlisle stroked his sweat-dampened hair away from his face. "For what? I love seeing you like that." He kissed Edward, sharing his taste, but it was a brief kiss. He pulled away too quickly. "Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

It took Edward another few moments to catch on to the fact sex was over. He flushed, feeling foolish. "Oh, um. Bacon and eggs would be good. Do we have kiwi?"

"I'll check." Carlisle leaned in, kissed the tip of his nose, and without another word was out of bed, leaving Edward staring after him.

Maybe they weren't on the same page after all. The thought disturbed Edward beyond measure, but he tried to tamp that down. He was overreacting, plain and simple.

He'd never told Carlisle what he wanted. True, he'd never had to in the past. They enjoyed a varied sex life. Out of scene, blow jobs were typically foreplay. The end game was almost always sex, unless they were short on time, which they weren't today.

Edward huffed and flopped backward on the bed, irritated with himself. "What did you expect?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. After everything they'd been through, what he should have done was talk it out. That was what Carlisle would have done. His husband would have made sure he knew Edward's limits and comfort level before he even touched him.

By the time Carlisle came back with breakfast, Edward was in a mood. "Don't do that shit again," he said, his voice tight before Carlisle had even taken two steps into the room.

Carlisle looked up, his expression bewildered. He paused mid-step. "Okay," he said calmly. "What shit are we referring to?"

Sitting up in bed, Edward crossed his arms. "If you didn't want sex, you should have told me. I should have asked. I get that, but you also should have told me. You think I want you to get me off like it's just some job to you?"

Carlisle blinked. He set the tray on the dresser, and Edward got to feel horrible about that too.

"Fuck," Edward said, running a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that either. Look, thank you for breakfast. I know you're trying to be nice. I just-"

By that time, Carlisle had crossed the room. He sat on Edward's side of the bed and put his hand over Edward's mouth. "Hush," he said. The gesture and the word weren't malicious in the slightest. It was a familiar action between them. Edward had a tendency to work himself up, and sometimes, he needed to be distracted.

Not today, though. He didn't want to be silenced, even playfully. He shook loose of Carlisle's hold. "Don't brush this off. Do you know how shitty it feels to think you're doing something just to get me off your back? Did you finish me off just so you could buy a little peace? I don't want you to even touch me if that's not something you want to do."

Carlisle sighed and cupped Edward's cheek. "I always want to touch you, my love." He let his fingers trail along Edward's jaw line, over his lips. "It's never been a chore. Not now. Not ever."

The look in Carlisle's eyes grew more troubled. He dropped his hands to his lap and looked down. "I'm sorry. You're right. I knew what you wanted, and it wasn't that I didn't want it." He let out a shaky breath. "I very much did. I just… I guess I panicked."

Edward furrowed his brow and sat up straighter, closer to him. "Panicked about what?"

"I don't know, really." He shook his head. "It wasn't about doing something I didn't want to do. I love touching you. I love watching you, and I love making you happy. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you when I started feeling… weird."

Edward studied his husband for a long moment. It felt like he was missing something, but then again, what else was new? For weeks now, nothing had felt _right._ He'd wondered more than once if he would ever feel comfortable, whole, again.

So something was off between him and Carlisle. That was par for the course, and Edward supposed it would get better. He shivered and reached for the other man, needing him close. They both moved until they were cuddled together, cheek to cheek. He breathed a little easier.

He hated this-when they discovered a brand new facet of just how broken they were. He took some comfort in the fact they were working through their broken pieces together, but it left him exhausted and painfully insecure.

"How about breakfast, hmm?" Carlisle said, turning his head to nuzzle Edward's cheek. "We still have a little time before your shift."

Edward wasn't really hungry. Both of their appetites had been fickle at best these last few weeks. They were playing this game with each other where Carlisle ate to keep Edward from worrying, and Edward did the same. He supposed it kept them both from starving to death. "Breakfast sounds good," he said.

 _ **~0~**_

Thirty was a big birthday.

Carlisle loved spoiling his boy on his birthday. He'd done his best to make the day special since they'd been together. Months ago, in a different life, Carlisle had thought of taking Edward somewhere. Their first family vacation. Maybe a California vacation. They could drive down the coast, spend a day in Yosemite and end up in Disneyland. He'd love to see his little boy brat in Mickey ears, and Riley would love it.

Would have loved it.

Since then, it had taken all their mental energy to put one foot in front of another. A trip would have been macabre at this point. Carlisle had managed to put together a small party at home with all of their favorite people. It wasn't bad. It was even nice in a lot of ways.

Currently, Edward was at the table, distracted by a raucous game of Cards Against Humanity with his friends. He seemed to be having a good enough time, laughing and enjoying the company.

Carlisle had had to take a phone call about one of his patients and hadn't tried to come back to the game when he was done. Instead, he'd retreated to the kitchen where he could see the party, but he wasn't part of it.

Esme found him there, drinking in the dark. "What are you doing?"

"I needed a minute."

She came to stand beside him, and Carlisle wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head against her belly. She scratched his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Carlisle closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He really didn't, but it was probably better to try to work through some of the thoughts in his head with her rather than Edward today of all days. "I had the perfect birthday this year, did you know that?"

Esme said nothing. She continued to scratch her fingers gently along his scalp, and after a moment, Carlisle continued. "At midnight I was making love to my husband, and when we woke up in the morning, Edward brought me the baby to cuddle. Then he and Riley made me breakfast in bed." Despite the ache in his heart, Carlisle smiled at the memory. "Riley carried the orange juice all by himself. He looked so proud when he didn't spill a single drop."

His bed had been full of wiggling bodies. Full and happy. That had only been the beginning of perhaps the best birthday of his life.

Carlisle finished the drink in his glass and poured himself another. He took a long pull and set it down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know I'd give Edward anything. Anything he wants. He should have what I had-kisses and love from our kids." He huffed, heartbroken and bitter. "We can't even find out if they're okay, you know? I couldn't even give him that if I wanted to-to know that someone is teaching Bree more words. To know that Riley is happy, that his…" Carlisle swallowed hard. "That his parents are being patient with him, and his trust hasn't been completely broken. I can't even give him that."

There were other things he couldn't seem to give his husband. Things that he wasn't ready to think about, because the repercussions could cost him everything he had left. Carlisle shuddered and drank.

With another long drink, his glass was empty. He reached for the bottle to refill it, but Esme's firm hand around his wrist stopped him. She pried the glass out of his hand and put both of them out of his reach. "You're drunk, aren't you?" she asked.

Carlisle opened his mouth to deny it, but then he realized he was swaying in place. He glanced at the bottle of whiskey and was shocked to see it was a great deal less full than it had been when he came in the kitchen. It wasn't as though he'd abstained at dinner either. He knew his limits. The alcohol was going to catch up with him sooner than later. He ran a hand over his eyes. "Fuck," he said, but then he couldn't help laughing.

"What's funny?" Esme asked. She sounded sad.

"I keep thinking I can't possibly be a more worthless husband." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "And I keep proving myself wrong."

"Carlisle." Esme sighed. "I don't know if there's a point in telling you this right now, but I'm going to do it anyway. I told you not to forget to take care of yourself. I know you don't want Edward to hurt, but he doesn't want you to hurt either. You're both hurting. You deserve to acknowledge that."

"On his birthday?" Carlisle demanded, and he laughed again, roiling in self-loathing.

"Oh, honey." She rubbed his shoulder. "This stuff doesn't happen when it's most convenient to us. You told me that once upon a time. Remember?"

She sighed again and shook her head. "Nevermind. Stay here. I'm going to enlist Garrett to walk with you. Maybe if you can get in bed, you can sleep through the worst of it. "

"But Edward-"

"We'll take care of Edward, and I know how to be a good host. Don't worry."

He worried anyway, but the alcohol was quickly getting the better of him. As Esme promised, she peeled Garrett away from the party long enough to help him up the stairs.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle said when Esme brought him water.

She scoffed. "Sometimes I think you forget you were the one to peel me off the floor after Charles, but I haven't forgotten." She ran soothing hand through his hair. "I really hoped I'd never have to return the favor, but either way. Don't apologize to me. Not ever."

She stroked his hair, and Carlisle's eyes began to droop.

"Edward is going to be mad," he mumbled.

"Disappointed, I think." Esme was always honest. "But he'll understand. I promise." She kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep. You can try again tomorrow. Now close your eyes."

Exhaling in a gust, Carlisle obeyed.

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 **A/N: You know what I love about songster? (A lot) She doesn't even like angst, and she reads all my stuff. *hugs* Thanks to songster, barburella, jessypt, Packy, MoH for all their insights.**

 **How are you guys?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Happy November, duckies.**

 **This fic (and this author!) got so much love in the TwiFic Fandom Awards. Thank you so much for all your love and support.**

 **If you're so inclined, I'll be posting a link to the polls when they're ready. Mwah.**

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Sitting down to breakfast, Edward laughed. It was a tired, bitter sound, but that characterized most his laughs the last few months. He rubbed his eyes.

"What's so funny?" Carlisle asked, sitting across from him at their kitchen table. He set a plate of breakfast in front of Edward.

"I have Tom Hank's voice in my head." Edward sat up straighter and pulled his breakfast toward him. It smelled delicious, and his stomach rumbled. "You know that speech from _Sleepless in Seattle_? After a while, I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning."

Carlisle huffed. "Then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect," he said, finishing the quote.

Edward met his eyes and smiled. He stabbed at his eggs. "I don't have to remind myself to eat anymore. I'm hungry. Things taste good again." He let his eyes meet his husband's. "I have cravings again."

A flicker went through Carlisle's eyes. Understanding, Edward thought. But it was gone as quickly as he'd seen it. Carlisle dragged a bit of pancake through a sea of buttery syrup. "I was craving machaca the other day. You have Sunday off. Maybe we can go to the Mexican place, hmm?"

Edward ducked his head, chewing his bacon to cover disappointment. No, this was worse than disappointment. He searched for the word as he tried to swallow the eggs that had become ash in his mouth.

Crestfallen. That might work. It was sufficiently dramatic. And it was better than naming the cloying, nerve-wracking feeling that was making his skin crawl.

He and his husband weren't on the same page. They hadn't been since at least his birthday a month and a half ago.

The more rational part of him wagged a finger. Why play games? He should come right out and say what he wanted, what he was thinking. Why would he expect Carlisle to read his mind?

Because he always had before. Because they'd been that close for so long, Edward didn't remember a time when they weren't. Wasn't that what had made them special? What made them work so well?

A soft touch to his cheek drew Edward out of his anxiety-ridden thoughts. He looked up to find Carlisle looking at him. There was concern in his eyes, but also tenderness. "Are you okay?"

Edward sighed and tilted his head into Carlisle's palm. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking about the thing this weekend. It's been a while."

Carlisle stood and sat down in the chair beside Edward. He wrapped an arm around him and guided Edward's head to his shoulder. He kissed his temple. "Don't worry, baby boy. You'll be the handsomest man in the room. You always are."

Edward snorted, and he let himself relax further into his husband's embrace. He was glad he'd caught himself before he acted the fool, started a fight they really didn't need. Healing was hard enough without needless insecurities.

 _ **~0~**_

In the eight months they had their children, Carlisle and Edward hadn't gone to any extracurricular events on their own. In any given year, they could be expected to be invited to handful of events-this award presentation, that benefit gala. Carlisle was in a place in his career where he was asked to speak on occasion. On top of being a gifted, respected surgeon, he was well-known for his generous charity work. But they'd turned down every invitation they got, opting to spend more time with their kids.

As Carlisle stepped out of the shower, he wondered if it was a blessing or a curse that he had no memories to associate with nights like tonight. On the one hand, there were no memories to weigh down his heart. This was something they'd done in their lives before the kids.

Therein was the bittersweetness of the moment. This was something they would have gotten around to. Carlisle couldn't help but imagine what it might have been like. He imagined the kids might like to watch them get ready. Riley always had so many questions. Or perhaps he would have been angry that he was missing out on their grown-up fun. He might be sitting on their bed, scowling with classic Riley ferocity.

They would have promised he could have a suit of his own, just like his daddies. Garrett and Kate were getting married in another couple of months. Edward would have promised he would teach Riley to tie a tie so he wouldn't be as defective as Carlisle.

Maybe by now, baby Bree would have been old enough that she would be chattering with her own questions. Or she would just be watching them from her mat on the floor, occasionally calling for their attention to show them her toys or just collect a quick cuddle.

Carlisle finished toweling himself off and sighed. What was worse-aching memories or his own imagination of things he couldn't have?

As he had been training himself to do, Carlisle made a concerted effort to dwell on the things he could have; the things he did have. When he had his shirt and pants on, he turned and drew his husband to sight never failed to bring a smile to his face. Christ, Edward all spiffied up was a sight to see.

A smirk played at Edward's lips as Carlisle finished buttoning his shirt for him and then smoothed it out. He held out Edward's jacket, helping him slip into it, and buttoned that up too. Then, he smiled. It was a grin unfettered by anything.

Seeing Edward in a suit would never fail to remind Carlisle of their wedding day. There was nothing bittersweet about those memories. He remembered how, though both of them were good dancers, they were content to merely sway in each other's arms for several songs. Neither of them could stop smiling.

In present time, Edward chuckled. His hand was warm at Carlisle's side, just touching him, holding him. "I have a question."

Carlisle raised his head to meet his eyes and quirked an eyebrow, already amused. "How very unlike you."

Edward reached out and took Carlisle's tie from where it sat on the counter. He hung it around his neck and began to tie it. Just as it had years before-the night everything had changed for them-the air around them charged. Carlisle felt his throat go dry, and Edward swallowed hard. "It shouldn't be too long before I'm the prestigious doctor with all the accolades," Edward said, his voice quite a bit huskier than it had been a minute before. He tightened the knot of Carlisle's tie and smoothed it down, letting his hand linger on his chest. "Will that make you _my_ arm candy?"

Carlisle had to laugh. He turned out of Edward's hold and glanced in the mirror, finger-combing his hair. A disquieting emotion rumbled in the pit of his belly. "I think I'm too old to make a good trophy husband."

Edward snorted. He stepped up behind Carlisle and held his head up and forward. "You're so full of shit. Look at you." He wrapped his arms around Carlisle's chest, resting a hand over his heart. "They all still want you, you know," he said, meeting Carlisle's eyes in the mirror. "I see the way they look at you." He kissed his ear. "But I'm the only one who gets to touch you."

Carlisle turned his head and kissed Edward. It was a possessive kiss. Yes, he was only Edward's and Edward was only his. This thing they were going through was so big-bigger than him. His love for his husband was the only thing as big as his pain. Maybe bigger.

Maybe.

Carlisle pulled away, swallowing a small groan at the back of his throat. He leaned his forehead against Edward's and closed his eyes. "We have to go."

Edward was quiet for another moment. Carlisle thought he heard him sigh. "Yeah. Okay."

 _ **~0~**_

Listening to Carlisle talk shop had always been one of Edward's favorite things. It always had been. Carlisle was ridiculously good-looking, and, having eyes, Edward had noticed that first. But what had sparked his initial crush was his mind. Though many attendings considered their interns as merely students-only capable of learning-Carlisle had taken the time to discuss with Edward, consider his theories.

At the benefit gala, Edward sat back. It happened fairly often that the older doctors-more Carlisle's colleagues than his-left him out of the conversation. In their eyes, he was more like their pretty, supportive wives and husbands than he was one of them.

Edward knew how to insert himself in the conversation when he wanted and knew Carlisle would support him if he did, but tonight, he didn't want to. He wanted to watch and admire. He loved seeing his husband in his element.

It was such a turn on.

As he spoke, Carlisle kept his hand on Edward's knee or at his back. He stroked absently, remaining connected to Edward even though he was involved in his conversation. That felt good too. He liked the reassurance that they were still part of a unit.

When dinner was served, Edward allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation, reminding the others that he was a doctor too. A good one. A good surgeon-every bit Carlisle's equal even if he hadn't put in the same amount of time.

Dinner was good. The wine was even better. Edward liked this part-where everyone in the room relaxed. Laughter rang out from all the conversations around.

It was so good to see Carlisle relaxed. He'd draped his arm around Edward's shoulders ages before and now drew him in for a playful kiss.

Christ, it had been so long since they were this light. Edward had to resist the urge to giggle at the wave of giddiness that washed over him. He settled for a wide grin as he kissed him back. Edward let his hand drift ever so slightly up Carlisle's leg, his fingers brushing the inside of his thigh. His kisses tasted like wine and the sweet sauce from the chicken. Intoxicating.

Carlisle broke their kiss with a gasp. Better, Edward thought. That kiss was getting too risqué for public. They weren't the only couple getting somewhat handsy.

Of course, they might have been the only couple for whom this was an unprecedented event of late. "Can we get out of here?" Edward asked, hoping against hope he was reading the situation right.

When Carlisle opened his eyes, the lust there was clear. A jolt went down Edward's spine, and he shifted in his seat to alleviate the sudden pressure at his crotch. Carlisle nodded and stood, bringing Edward up with him. "Let's go."

They held hands all the way to the door. There were taxis available to take the guests home. As soon as they were in the backseat, Edward splayed his hand over Carlisle's chest, and stretched over to kiss him. Carlisle put his hand over Edward's and tilted his head down to catch his lips.

Their kisses were slow, sensual, their hands brushing rather than groping. They weren't trying to scar the cabbie for life. Also, as hungry as he was for Carlisle, as much as he wanted to rip his husband's clothes off right there, Edward also felt strangely shy. Just like on his birthday, there was a newness to their touches; as though they were discovering each other all over again.

Carlisle hadn't been ready on his birthday, and Edward could understand that. He seemed to be responding better tonight. Even in the back of the cab, he was already playing at the buttons of Edward's shirt, squeezing his side with intent.

When the cab dropped them off, they went up the walk together, hand in hand, stopping every few steps to kiss. After he opened the door, Carlisle grabbed Edward by the shirt and hauled him inside. Not rough; just eager.

They stumble-walked together, up the stairs to their bedroom, shedding jackets and shirts. When they were in their room Edward let his hand drift down Carlisle's chest to his belly. Then, he cupped Carlisle between his legs.

Carlisle sucked in a breath, breaking their kiss and lurching out of Edward's hold. He put a hand to his heart and leaned with his other hand against the wall, his head bowed. Edward blinked, trying to come to figure out what had happened.

"Carlisle?" Edward said. He took a step forward, but his husband held his hand out, palm up, stopping him. "What's going on? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Fuck," Carlisle said under his breath, not looking at him. "I'm… I'm fine. I mean, there's nothing wrong with me. Well-"

"Tell me what I did," Edward said. He was confused. Carlisle was obviously in some kind of distress, but he didn't understand what happened.

Carlisle shook his head. "You didn't do anything, Edward. It's not you at all. I just… I…" He pressed the heels of both of his hands against his forehead. "I'm sorry. I need to… I need to stop."

By then, Edward had figured out that was coming. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to dissect what he was feeling before he spoke. What he wanted was to be the picture of understanding. He was disappointed; of course he was disappointed, but that shouldn't have mattered. Carlisle didn't owe him sex, and as he'd told him on his birthday, he didn't want his husband doing anything he wasn't completely comfortable with.

No, it wasn't the disappointment that was bothering him the most. There was something else going on here. Something Carlisle wasn't talking to him about, and that was terrifying. So many months had passed as they tried to figure out which way was up. Edward's primary mode had been out of sorts at best, but this…

He needed to know where he stood with this, and he needed to know now. He looked down at his feet and tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. "I need to ask you something," he said, his voice clipped. "And I need you to be honest with me no matter what the answer is."

When he chanced a glance, Edward saw Carlisle still wasn't looking at him. He was leaning with his back against the wall, his head tilted slightly back, his eyes closed. Edward clenched his fists on his knees and forced himself to continue. His voice trembled when he spoke. "I need to know if you're still attracted to me."

Carlisle took a sharp breath. "Edward-"

"I know you love me," Edward said in a rush. "I know that. And I know we've both kind of been basketcases trying to deal with everything." He swallowed hard, his heart aching. "But Carlisle, none of that has stopped how I feel about you. It hasn't stopped that I want to express how I feel physically. I miss you." Neediness had begun to creep into his voice. "If you don't miss me like that, if you don't want me-"

"Christ, Edward. No." Carlisle was shaking his head emphatically, but he hadn't moved, and he still wasn't looking at Edward. "How can you even think that?"

"What the hell am I supposed to think? Every time I touch you, you end up running away like you're in pain. It seems like you're forcing yourself to try with me. Like you can't...you can't-"

"I can't."

Edward had never heard Carlisle's voice sound so twisted and desperate before. He looked and found Carlisle was staring at him, the expression on his face tortured. He took a shuddering breath. "It's not you. I want you. I'll always want you, but I _can't._ I can't…" He made a vague gesture downward with one hand. "I can't," he said again, his eyes begging Edward to understand.

It took one, two, three seconds for understanding to sink in. "Oh," he said softly, stunned.

Carlisle let out a ragged breath and slid down the wall. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hung his head, tangling his fingers in his hair.

His husband's dejected misery snapped Edward out of his surprise. He went to Carlisle and sat beside him. When Edward put his arm around him, Carlisle stiffened. He relaxed with a huff but didn't look up or move out of his stooped pose.

Edward ran his fingers through Carlisle's hair, working his way under his tightly clenched fists. "Hey. Baby, it's okay."

Carlisle laughed, completely without humor. "It's not," he said with a groan. "It's really not."

"I mean that's something we can deal with." Edward rubbed his shoulder. "There's no shame in it." He tilted his head to lean against Carlisle's. "It happens. You know, usually it's a mental thing."

"Don't fucking diagnose me," Carlisle snapped. Then he sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "I _know_ it's a mental thing."

Edward's heart twisted. He hated that Carlisle had been going through this on his own. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You've had enough to deal with."

"Come on. I know you don't believe that." He brushed his hair back. "We took a bunch of vows saying we promised to go through these kinds of things together, remember?"

Carlisle raised his head, but he stared forward. "I know," he said quietly. He took several deep breaths, and when he spoke again, his voice shook. "I haven't wanted to think about it. What it means."

"It doesn't have to mean anything big. There are meds while we work through whatever else is going on."

"You don't understand." Carlisle's voice cracked. "This… this could cost me everything. It could cost me you."

Fear shot down Edward's spine. Carlisle believed what he was saying absolutely. "No. No, it can't." He tightened his hold on his husband, giving him a small shake. "Carlisle, you can't possibly believe I'd leave you over something like this. That's-"

"You don't understand," Carlisle said, his voice small and broken.

"Then talk to me. Tell me."

Carlisle wiped away a tear that had gathered at the edge of his eye. "I can't tell you right now." He angled his body toward Edward and raised his eyes. He looked defeated and fragile-unlike Edward had ever seen him before, even after they lost the kids.

"I'm not drunk, but I've had too much wine to have this conversation," Carlisle said. "I know that's not fair." He took Edward's face in his hands, his eyes looking over his features as though he were precious. Finally, he looked him in the eyes. "Is it enough for tonight that you know it's not that I don't want you? You don't know how much I want you. I love you so much, Edward. And I need you."

Edward wrapped his arms around Carlisle, tangling him up in his embrace. He was scared. Maybe more scared than he'd ever been. He was scared that Carlisle was right, that they were on the edge of losing _them,_ and his own helplessness frustrated the hell out of him. He'd never let go of them without a fight. That was what he wanted-to fight. He would fight with everything he had, but Carlisle wasn't telling him what the enemy was.

What he really wanted was what he was used to-Carlisle concentrated on him; what he needed. He wanted Carlisle to say they were okay, because Edward needed that safety and security. That was the gift Carlisle gave him over and over-the ability to place his trust, all of who he was in his hands.

Edward was damn well going to return the favor the one time his husband asked for it. He blew out a breath and let go of the million questions and fears he had for the time being. "Whatever you need," he said, cupping his hand around the back of Carlisle's neck. "Tell me."

Carlisle shifted closer and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Edward's cheek. "Just you with me," he whispered. "Please."

It killed Edward that he thought he had to ask, to beg for something that had been his for years. How the hell had Edward missed that Carlisle was this far gone, this shaken?

He braced his arm around Carlisle and tugged upward. They stood, and Edward led him to their bed. He sat him down and only left him long enough to get pajama pants for both of them. They changed, and Edward lifted the blankets for Carlisle to climb in. Then, he climbed in beside him, wrapped him up in his arms, and kissed him softly, without intent, until they both fell asleep.

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 **A/N: So many thanks to barburella, songster, MoH, and Packy for the constant love and support...even though I drive them to drink and gorge on chocolate. Apparently.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, my ducks.**

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Carlisle woke up still exhausted. He should have been used to it by now, he supposed. Any kind of heaviness of the heart was a constant drain. Last night, he'd found a new worry, a new fear, and once again, a part of him wished he could just sleep until all of this was over. Sleep through the pain and uncertainty and wake up when he was on solid ground again.

With a sigh, Carlisle opened his eyes. A tender, warm emotion filled him at the sight. Edward lay next to him, his sleeping face handsome and peaceful. His arm was draped loosely at Carlisle's waist, and the other hand was tucked underneath his cheek.

The mere thought of losing him…

Carlisle rolled away from his husband and out of bed. He needed to put some distance between them, or he would end up clutching Edward to him. Maybe that would be fine, except then he'd have to deal with things he wasn't ready to deal with yet.

He stumbled toward the bathroom, trying to shake the disconcerting desperation that was doing nothing to help his muddled thoughts. Would his world ever be steady again, or was this the new norm-constantly being rocked by one disaster after the next?

Carlisle got in the shower and turned the spray on. The water that hit him was ice cold. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. It had the effect of a slap, bringing him back on more coherent ground. He stood beneath the stream, shivering until the water warmed.

Only a couple of minutes passed as he let the heat and steam soothe him. He closed his eyes, leaning with his palms and forehead against the tile.

The snap of the shower door opening startled him. Carlisle froze and steeled himself. Despite his effort, he still shuddered when Edward wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. Nerves made his heartbeat speed, and his throat went dry.

"I'm not trying to start anything," Edward said. He leaned his forehead against Carlisle's shoulder. His next words were muffled. "I just don't want to be separated from you right now."

Some of the tension drained from Carlisle's body only to be replaced by guilt. He knew damn well he'd scared Edward the night before. But he couldn't take his panicked words back, and he couldn't ignore the problem anymore. He gave in to his neediness, leaning back against Edward's chest and putting his hands over his at his waist. A shudder that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with dread went through him.

This was exactly why he'd pushed his problem away for so long. No part of him wanted to have to deal with what was going to happen after they talked. He couldn't cope with the idea he could lose this, though he knew it was a very real possibility.

His throat tight, Carlisle turned around and pulled Edward to him. He resolved to try not to think as long as they were in the shower. He didn't think, and he didn't speak. He reached past Edward, brushing their bodies together, and grabbed the shampoo. Pouring a dollop onto his palm, he began to massage it into Edward's hair.

Edward sighed and closed his eyes in contentment. Carlisle was slow and thorough, massaging along the ridges of Edward's scalp. Tenderness and affection began to grow stronger than the dread and fear pooled in his stomach. He let himself get lost watching Edward's face.

They bathed each other in wordless, intimate silence. Edward's fingers were strong and firm as he soaped Carlisle's body, sliding along the expanse of his back, his shoulders, his neck. He paid extra attention to the skin behind Carlisle's ears and smirked when Carlisle laughed.

For minutes, it was easy to pretend they were what they'd always been-a couple deeply in love and happy.

When they got out of the shower, the warm glow faded quickly. They pulled their robes on, each of them knowing a heavy conversation was coming.

Back in their bedroom, they sat side by side. Carlisle shivered. Despite the fact it was summer, the morning air was cool on his damp skin. Or maybe it was just that the fear was back, turning his blood cold.

It was Edward who spoke first. He took Carlisle's hand and kissed his fingertips. "I really need to understand how you could possibly think you would lose me."

Carlisle let out a long, slow breath. Even hearing the words was devastating. He struggled to put his thoughts in order. "I know it's not something you'd want." He swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. "But if I can't be what you need…" He shook his head, unable to speak.

Edward took his face in his hands. "Start at the beginning, please. I really can't wrap my head around how you could think that would happen. I need you. Your hold on me is permanent."

Carlisle kept his eyes cast downward and shook his head again. He took Edward's hands in his, lowering them down between them. "Nothing is permanent," he said, his voice shaking. "I know you would try to stay, but I don't know if you could be happy-whole-with me."

"Come here," Edward said after a moment's silence. He lay back on the bed and opened his arms. Carlisle curled up beside him, and Edward tucked him up against him. He hitched his leg over Carlisle's waist so they were tangled up, nose to nose. "There."

He smoothed his fingers through Carlisle's hair. "Please tell me what you're thinking. All of what you're thinking."

Carlisle ducked his head, hiding his face at Edward's neck, breathing in his calming scent. It took him another minute of deep breathing, but he finally began to speak. "Your parents, the director, the social workers...They all saw me as a monster." He swallowed hard, ignoring the way Edward stiffened. He had to get the words out. "They took away our kids, Edward. That was how dangerous they thought I was. I'm a dangerous monster because I get off on hurting you."

"But that's not true," Edward said, his voice rough with a fury Carlisle knew wasn't directed at him. "You know that's not true. That's not what was happening."

"Wasn't it?" Carlisle raised a hand to trace Edward's cheek. "How many times have I told you how much I love seeing you marked up? Bruised. And not even mildly. Sometimes, you're black and blue. How often have I gotten off at the sight of those marks on your body?"

"That's not the way it works, and you know it." Edward gave an incredulous huff. "Carlisle, I get off just as much as you do if not more on that stuff, and it's my body you're marking." He backed away a few inches, and Carlisle knew he was staring. "Please tell me you're not thinking that they're right. That we're wrong for being who we are."

"No," Carlisle said quickly. "No, I…" He searched, trying to find the right words. "It's hard to explain. I don't think you're wrong or anyone else in the scene is wrong."

"But you think you're wrong."

Carlisle sighed. "Not...rationally, no. I'm just stuck. Look, black and white, isn't everything they thought true? I was holding you helpless while I used you. I did subjugate you. I did beat you."

"All of which I consented to. Vigorously. It's not something I _let_ you do to me. It's something I asked for, something I wanted. I fucking craved."

That was, Carlisle thought, the biggest problem. "Regardless, I enjoyed it. Where I'm stuck is on what that says about me-that I'm capable of enjoying using you like that, inflicting an extraordinary amount of pain on you. On anyone."

" _Not_ on anyone." Edward pushed up onto his elbow, and Carlisle finally met his eyes. His husband was furious-a passionate kind of fury. "If I was uncomfortable, if I didn't _want_ it, you wouldn't get off on it at all. You've proven that over and over. It's not the pain that gets you off. You _know_ this.

"You're not the abuser who beats on his husband because it makes him feel powerful. You're definitely not the deranged sadist who thrives on pain and his partner's helplessness. You aren't a monster."

Carlisle breathed out a shaky breath and reached out to cup the back of Edward's head. He brought his husband back down so they were nose to nose again. "This isn't a rational feeling," he said softly. "It's...I don't know. Maybe Pavlovian is the best way to put it. I know there's nothing wrong with what we were doing, what I was doing to you. But now, when I think about it, when I think about any of the things we've done together." He took a deep breath. "When I think of the things I've done to you, all I feel now is disgust for myself."

Edward blinked, staring back at him in horror. "That's-"

"I know, baby. I _know_." It was hard to breathe around the ache in his chest. His heart just hurt. "I know it doesn't make sense, but everything is just...poisoned for me. That's what I feel like. Poison. I did those things to you. I didn't even deny it; I did it, and they took our kids, Edward." His voice cracked, and he had to take a steadying breath. "They'll work with people who beat their children, exposed them to drugs, all sorts of things, but not me. And I can't convince my psyche that they're wrong. I can't stop obsessing over what's wrong with me, what it is about me that ever made me look at a bruise on your body and feel _pleasure._ "

Even saying the words then made Carlisle's stomach churn. He was glad they hadn't had any breakfast yet or he might have lost it. That was how deep his disgust went.

"Carlisle." Edward touched him with a shaking hand, patting his cheek, brushing his lips. "That's… It's not… You know…"

Carlisle closed his eyes and shook his head. He wasn't dismissing Edward. He knew everything he was trying to say, but as he'd said multiple times already, it didn't matter that it wasn't rational.

"It is what it is," he said, defeated. "It's who I am now, and that's the problem."

He took another shaky breath and tightened his arms around Edward, clinging. "I know you're not up to it yet-the scene, I mean. But it's a need. It's part of your intrinsic makeup. It's a need that's going to make itself known again, and I... " He closed his eyes. These words felt like he was hammering the nails in his own coffin. He hated them. He hated that his world was falling apart, again, and he was helpless. "I won't be able to fill it for you. I can't be who you need. Not anymore."

The tension in the room was unbearable. Edward didn't speak right away, and every moment he didn't argue, what little bit of hope Carlisle had started to drain away. He started to pull back, but Edward clutched at him, his fingers digging so hard into Carlisle's back, he was surprised they didn't break the skin.

"Are you saying it's not a need for you?" Edward asked after an eon, his voice rough but steady.

Again, Carlisle scrambled for the right words. "I'm saying…" He huffed. The words didn't make sense. How could he make Edward understand some things just were? This was him. He wasn't as strong as Edward was. He'd been obliterated at the soul level with this blow. All kinds of pieces of him were missing, warped, and this was perhaps the biggest one.

"Maybe the need isn't gone," he said finally. "Maybe it will come back."

"Just like you think it will for me," Edward said. "You said it yourself. Intrinsic."

"Maybe. But even if it did, the other things I feel-the self loathing and disgust-they're stronger." He chuffed, bitter. "I want you so much, Edward. I want to show you how much I love you the way I always have, and those feelings have overpowered even my most basic desire."

"That's temporary. We can work through that."

Carlisle sighed and nuzzled Edward's cheek, trying to pretend he wasn't shaking. "Perhaps." Another deep breath. "But if I can't… If I can't be everything you need…"

Edward covered his mouth with his hand. "Do not say what I think you're about to say." He let his hand fall, and his eyes were burning as he stared Carlisle down. "Don't write us off, baby."

"I'm not." Carlisle palmed the side of Edward's face, brushing their lips together in a shaky kiss. "You have to know that's not what I want." He could feel tears brimming again. He was so scared, so desperate to hold on to what he had. He'd lost too much, and if he lost Edward, he wouldn't survive it. He just wasn't that strong. "But if I can't...I just...I need you to be happy, Edward. You deserve to be happy."

Edward held his face in his hands and kissed him. These were not happy kisses. They were desperate. Needy, and they moved together, arms and legs tangling. "Listen to me," Edward said, the words a rumble against Carlisle's lips between kisses. "It's not going to happen, do you hear me? You're a part of me. Heart and soul, we're part of each other. Do you think I could ever be happy if I walked away from you?"

Carlisle shuddered and tightened his hold. It was a miracle either of them could breathe. "You need to know I would understand if you did. If we couldn't-"

"No," Edward growled. He kissed Carlisle fiercely. "I don't want to hear those words, do you understand? Not now. Not ever. You need to forget about the idea I could ever walk away from you. I can't, and I'd never want to. We're going to get through this, and if you don't believe that…"

Edward pulled back, looking Carlisle in the eyes, fierce and frightened and determined.

And in love.

"If you don't believe that, I'll just have to say it again." Edward kissed him, more gently then. "And again." He kissed him. "And again." He kissed him. "Until you believe me."

Carlisle exhaled in a shaky gust. He kissed Edward back with urgency, a promise that he hadn't given up. "I believe you," he whispered.

He did believe him.

But that didn't mean he wasn't scared that he was wrong.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks, as always, to my dear girls. Hoping to update my other stories this week. My ofic has been flowing, though, so we'll see how that all goes.**

 **So now my boys know the demon they're fighting, huh?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Good morning, my ducks. Let me take this time to say I appreciate every one of you (even my spiky anons). Your kind words and support are a source of great happiness and pride for me. Thank you.**

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Edward would have liked the time to figure out this latest twist in their comedy of errors. But he got stuck on an extended shift and then only had five hours to sleep before he was up for another. So on and so forth, and before Edward knew it, four days had passed.

Rather than lifting a weight off his shoulders, Carlisle confessing his darkest fears seemed to make everything worse. They'd both been managing the depression that was only natural after a loss like they'd suffered, but it seemed to Edward that his husband was beginning to spiral.

It was little things, really. The specter of near-constant self-deprecation plagued Carlisle's words. Like when he'd referred to himself as old-not playfully-before the benefit. Or when he hadn't caught on right away to what was really going on with the patient in a story Edward was telling, he'd given a rueful smile. "I'm just not as quick as you, baby," he'd said.

Carlisle wasn't as arrogant as Edward was by a longshot, but he'd never lacked for self-confidence. Too bad Edward only had time to worry about it in quick minutes while he tried to catch a nap in the on-call room.

And, of course, when Edward did have some time to try to work things out, life just couldn't stand to make it easy for him.

"Good morning, sunshine." Carlisle smiled at Edward as he came down the stairs late in the afternoon.

Edward yawned and flopped down on the couch. He blinked as he watched Carlisle. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning."

"Well, I know that, smartass. I mean why are you doing it?"

"Bella called. She said she had something important to tell us, so she's bringing us dessert."

Edward woke up a bit more at that. He scratched the back of his head. He loved his best friend, but he'd been counting on having this time alone with his husband.

"Take a shower," Carlisle said, stooping to kiss Edward's cheek. "I have things covered here."

A shower sounded great. Most of the muscles in his body ached, and the hot water would do him good. Edward gave up the idea of getting into any serious conversation and turned his attention to looking forward to Bella's visit.

Almost an hour later, Edward was clean and dressed, sitting next to Carlisle and across from Bella at their dinner table, each eating a slice of the fruit tart she'd brought. Well, they were pretending to eat. Edward was worried. He was always worried these days, but this was new.

It was clear from the moment Bella walked in the door that something was wrong. He asked what it was the second he laid eyes on her, and she said everything was fine. She was fine. Edward was all kinds of wrapped up in his own crap, but he still knew his best friend. Something was up.

Edward realized he had no idea what was going on in Bella's life. Some best friend he'd been.

"Okay." Edward set his fork down, done with small talk. "Something's wrong. You're jittery as hell, Bella. Your leg has been bouncing like crazy, do you realize that?" He glanced at Carlisle and saw his husband was looking at his best friend with concern in his eyes. So he'd seen the same thing Edward had.

"I'm fine," Bella said, too quickly.

"No, please, Bella. I'm here for you." Edward took Carlisle's hand and squeezed. "We're here for you. Whatever it is, spit it out."

He braced himself for whatever was coming-a new disaster. Wasn't it par for the course? He didn't even know the right way to be there for his husband, and now his best friend needed him. What the hell-

"It's not bad," Bella said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Why are you so nervous?" Carlisle asked, his tone gentle.

"Ah. Okay." Bella picked up her napkin and wrung it fitfully in her hands. "Okay, so, I'm going to apologize in advance if you're not ready to hear this. I would hate for this to make things worse for you. You know how much I love both of you." She reached across the table, her hands palm up.

Edward and Carlisle glanced at each other as they put their hands in hers.

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I've had a long time to think about this. Since you said you wanted to have kids."

Edward sucked in a breath. He didn't know where this was going, but he was suddenly on the defensive.

The skin around her eyes tightened, and she looked at them with sympathy. "I'm sorry. I'd do anything to fix what was done to you. I know it's Riley and Bree you want. I know that. I'd steal them back for you if I thought that would work, but I can't."

Still confused, Edward squeezed her hand.

"Whatever you decide to do, you need to know that I've thought this through." She looked at them, nervous but determined. "I want to carry a pregnancy for you."

A jolt went down Edward's spine, and he heard Carlisle make a little noise of surprise at the back of his throat.

Bella hurried on. "I was going to offer when you were looking into fostering, but I was on the fence. It's a big decision." She flexed her fingers around theirs. "Trust me, I wouldn't be telling you this if I wasn't at least three hundred percent sure. I don't know where you are with this, but you guys are great daddies. I want to help you get there again. You deserve to be daddies."

"Sweetheart, what we deserve shouldn't have anything to do with your body," Carlisle said, his tone incredulous.

"How many times have you said you never want to be pregnant," Edward said, finding his voice.

Bella's lips twitched at the corner. "What I want and what I'll do are two different things." Bella straightened up, not letting go of either of them, and they were clinging to her. Her eyes were shining, full of tears. "The world is full of unfair things. So many things we don't want. Let me tell you about things I do want. I want you to have your family. I want to see you that happy again. I want little people wandering around this planet who are just like both of you."

Edward huffed and then laughed. He had no idea what to think. "You want more mouthy assholes like me around?"

She grinned at him. "Yeah. I really do." She sniffed. "And that's something I can do."

"Bella-" Carlisle started.

"It's something I want to do. If you guys want it," she said. She wiped at her eyes, finally pulling her hands from theirs. "Look, all we need to talk about right now is that it's an option. A real option. You know the law better than most. Even in the worst case scenario, if I went crazy and decided I wanted to fight you for custody of the baby-"

Carlisle's body jerked, and Bella grimaced. "Sorry," she said. "Sorry, that was probably the worst way to say that. You know I would never, ever do something like that. What I was trying to say was, even if the impossible happened and I was possessed by a demon, the baby would be biologically yours. No one could take them away from you the way Riley and Bree were taken away. That's what I meant."

"It's okay," Edward said. He rubbed Carlisle's knee, glancing at him, trying to read his expression. "It's...we hadn't talked about it yet. More kids, I mean."

"Okay. Less baby talk and more fruit tarts." She pulled her piece toward her, cheeks flushed with emotion. "Fruit tarts fix everything."

 _ **~0~**_

Carlisle didn't know what to think or what he was supposed to be feeling. There was one emotion in a roiling sea he could identify absolutely, because he didn't want it. Resentment.

Bella's offer was beyond generous. He knew how she felt about her body and her life. He also knew without a doubt she'd weighed every aspect of her offer, and she meant what she said. She wanted this for them.

It was just that her offer was another weight around his neck. He couldn't quite identify why it felt so heavy-stifling-but it did. Another heavy burden was the last thing he needed.

Carlisle sat on the edge of their bed that evening and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. Exhausted.

He heard rather than saw Edward approach. The bed dipped, but for once, his husband's warm presence didn't make him happy. He knew they were about to have a conversation he didn't want to have.

"I want to consider this," Edward said after a minute of silence.

Carlisle exhaled on a gust. He pushed to his feet. "No."

Edward followed him across the room. "Why not?" He didn't sound mad. He didn't even sound surprised at Carlisle's instant denial.

"You know why." An all too familiar tightness rose to choke him, and he could feel the burn of bile at the back of his throat. He turned away from Edward, busying his hands putting away folded clothes. "If it turns out I can't be everything you need, I'm not going to tie you to me like that. I know you don't want to hear this right now, Edward, but you deserve freedom of choice."

The words curdled in his mouth, twisted in his gut. It was the absolute last thing he wanted, but what he wanted didn't matter. There was what he wanted and what he had. That was the way things were; the hand he'd been dealt.

Edward caught his arm before Carlisle could move to the closet. His breath was shaky. "I want this with you," he said, his voice still steady.

"I-"

"No. Let me finish. I'm not dismissing you." Edward gave a grunt. "Although, for the record, I still think you're out of your damn mind if you-" He stopped, and Carlisle heard him take a deep, calming breath. "Let me try that again. I hear what you're saying, Carlisle, but it's not a valid argument."

Whatever energy Carlisle had left him. He turned, went back to the bed, and sat down, his shoulders slumped. "What's invalid about it? Neither one of us have ever believed that love is all you need to make a happy life together."

"No. You're right, but again, that's beside the point."

Edward came to stand before him, and then he sunk down onto his knees. Carlisle winced, flinching away from all the memories that pose invoked for him-sweet, beautiful, sexy memories tainted now by ugliness. He might have closed his eyes, but Edward reached for his hands.

"If hell freezes over and we can't work this out, there's still the option every other couple in the world has," Edward said. "Divorce"-Edward's lips twisted around the ugly word-"wouldn't change that we're both fathers to our children. Married or not, I will only ever want to raise kids with you."

Carlisle stared into his husband's eyes, trying again to figure out what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to be feeling. How could he help but hope? He'd wanted a family with this man for a very long time now.

He'd had a beautiful family, and it had been destroyed. Carlisle shuddered at the wave of anguish that washed over him, but he didn't pull away from Edward.

"Nothing's changed," Edward said, bringing his hands to his lips as he looked up at him. "There was never a guarantee in life. Even if this hadn't happened to us." He took a deep breath, as though breathing through a great deal of pain. "When we made the decision to look into adoption, the world was just as uncertain. If they hadn't been taken from us, something else could have happened. Like anyone else, we could have grown apart, or had some other profound life change or just fallen out of love. It happens.

"I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. What I'm saying is that as of this moment, you're still everything I need and want out of life. That's how I'm going forward. You're my husband. I love you. I want you, and I want to raise a family with you." The look in his eyes turned scared, and he dropped his gaze. Carlisle could feel the tremble of his fingers. "I guess the question is what do you want. Right now. Right this minute, what do you want with me?"

Carlisle slid off the bed, onto his knees on the floor. He wrapped Edward in his arms. He didn't say anything. He couldn't find the words. He wanted to believe they were going to survive this, but he just couldn't see how Edward wasn't going to end up with the short end of the stick. He didn't want Edward to settle for less than what he deserved, but at the same time, he wasn't ready to give up.

Edward scratched his fingers through his hair and kissed his neck. "Okay. I understand why you can't think about what Bella said yet. I know you're not there, and for the record, I'm not sure I was ready to hear that offer yet either. I get that, but maybe you can consider something else."

Carlisle pulled back just slightly so they were nose to nose. "What?" he asked, a little nervous.

Edward locked eyes with him. "I think it's time for us to try therapy."

Carlisle blinked. He couldn't say he was surprised, but it wasn't what he expected to hear just then.

"Garrett gave me a card months ago for a therapist that might be best suited to fit our needs." Edward brushed Carlisle's hair back, still looking him in the eyes. "We're broken, and I think… I mean, what else could we be after everything? That's part of fighting for us, right? I-"

"You don't have to convince me I need therapy," Carlisle said. "I'm willing. I want to try."

Marriage took work, after all. Even if they were doomed in the long run, Carlisle needed to be sure he'd done everything he could.

"Good." Edward ducked his head, his look becoming uncharacteristically nervous. "And I need to ask one more thing."

"Anything," Carlisle said.

Edward raised his head. "I want to...be intimate with you again."

That was more along the lines of what Carlisle had been expecting for days. He exhaled slowly. He'd given that plenty of thought since he'd been forced out of denial.

"It doesn't have to be sex," Edward said quickly. His fingers stroked along Carlisle's cheeks. "I'm not interested in pushing you, but I miss you. It's been so long. I think it would help us. I think it would help..." He took Carlisle's face in his hands. "I just miss you so much."

"Baby." Carlisle slipped his hands under Edward's shirt, seeking contact. He kissed his husband. Slow, lingering kisses. Edward's hands stroked along his sides, kissing him back.

Carlisle stood, bringing Edward along with him. They only parted long enough to tug off shirts. Just shirts at first. They knelt on the bed, still kissing and touching. Petting. Like they were shy teenagers again.

No. That wasn't true. It wasn't that these touches were innocent and new. It was just that this was the first time in months that their touches were unburdened by anything else. Now that Carlisle wasn't concentrating on whether his cock would or wouldn't cooperate, he could enjoy his husband's kisses and touches.

He found himself on his back with Edward straddling him. When Edward broke their kiss, Carlisle lay back, breathless. He stroked his fingers through his husband's hair and down his back as Edward sucked gently at his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. He sighed. One of the billion weights around his neck untangled and fell away.

When Edward worked his way back up, Carlisle got a firm grip on his waist. He flipped them, smiling at Edward's gasp of surprise. He caged Edward with his body, staring down and smiling at him. "I want to give you pleasure," he said, dipping down and nipping at Edward's lips.

Edward groaned and his hips rolled up to meet his. "But you-"

Carlisle shook his head. He didn't want to think of things he wasn't capable of at the moment. "You're right. That's something we can figure out." He stole several more kisses. "But it's not something we're going to figure out tonight." Another flurry of kisses to Edward's nose and his cheek. "Making you happy, seeing you like that, is one of my greatest pleasures in life, baby. Right now, tonight, that's more than enough for me." He kissed his lips and spoke the next words against his mouth. "Is that what you want?"

Edward whimpered, his breath hot on Carlisle's skin. "Yes."

Carlisle ducked down and nipped his neck. "Yes?"

"Yes. Please."

Carlisle hadn't been lying. Tit for tat was all well and good, but he'd never believed that both people had to come every single time any kind of sex was had. He found great satisfaction in bringing Edward pleasure.

Edward had been right too. This was exactly what Carlisle needed. It wasn't like on Edward's birthday which, despite Carlisle's desire, had been about placating his husband so he wouldn't ask questions he couldn't answer yet. It was good to know that not everything had changed. He still knew Edward's body perhaps better than he knew his own.

He knew how Edward liked it when he tapped along the ridges of his spine while he sucked him off. He knew the spots to tickle to throw Edward off, and the spots to caress to reel him back in. He could read the intensity of Edward's pleasure, knew how close he was to coming, by the look on his face and the noises he made.

"Carlisle. Baby. Ung. Fuck. Ohmygod. Baby. Yeah." Edward babbled nonsensically, his voice getting increasingly high-pitched and his words ran together. His fingers were wound tightly in Carlisle's hair.

Carlisle moved his hands from Edward's back to cup and fondle his balls, knowing he was close. Sure enough, Edward bucked into his mouth with a cry. His head was thrown back. His body began to tense, waiting for release. Carlisle didn't disappoint. He didn't tease. He worked Edward with his tongue, his lips, his hand, just as wrapped up in the noises he made as Edward was in the sensation. Edward came with a scream, his body arched up to meet Carlisle's mouth.

When he was spent, limp on the bed, Carlisle released him. He laughed when he kissed the head of Edward's cock, and the other man shuddered-no doubt sensitive at that spot. Carlisle rained kisses along the inside of his thighs, around his belly button.

Edward cupped his hand around Carlisle's chin and tugged, bringing him up his body faster. They kissed, and Edward licked his taste from Carlisle's lips.

Carlisle pulled back after a moment, wanting to look at Edward. They'd rolled to their sides by then, and as they stared at each other, they touched-light, intimate caresses.

They'd needed that; Carlisle had needed that. It was one thing to say they were together, quite another to show it, to feel it. They were still very much a unit.

Neither of them spoke, but they moved together, wiggling until they were under the blankets and pressed up close. Carlisle kissed Edward's fingertips when he drew his hand along the line of his mouth.

For the first time in months, Carlisle felt a glimmer of hope. He hadn't changed his mind. He knew Edward was going to need more than he could give at some point, but that point wasn't now. He had no idea what to do about the future, but now, they had conquered the first step of getting their present back in working order. They had a plan and the promise of more of this. Intimacy. Love.

"I love you," Carlisle said, kissing the tip of Edward's nose.

Edward tilted his head up to catch his lips. "I love you."

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 **A/N: I'm grumpy and at work. Humph. Talk to me, people. Tell me how you are.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I only work two days this week! So random.**

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Edward put a firm hand to Carlisle's knee, stopping it from bouncing. He rubbed his knee, glancing at him affectionately. "Are you nervous?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

Carlisle huffed. "I'm okay."

"Really? Because you kind of look like you're going to blow chunks."

Carlisle's lips twitched. The moment of wry amusement passed, and his lips turned down. "I've been trying to decide if the fact Dr. St. Claire is in the scene is a good thing or a bad thing."

Edward furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would it be a bad thing?"

His husband's look was furtive. "I know you don't see things the same way I do, but he might."

Edward drew back, crossing his arms. Carlisle's attitude was really beginning to piss him off. "You should be careful what you say," he said, trying to keep his voice light and failing. "I might think you're looking for an excuse to leave me."

Carlisle was quiet for a beat longer than was comfortable. "It's true, what you said before about there being no guarantees for anyone, and we make choices based on how we feel right now." He wasn't looking at Edward but staring forward. "The thing is, that only applies to people who are too blind to see a huge problem on the horizon. This is a huge problem. It's a huge part of who you are, and-"

"I heard you the fucking first time," Edward said through clenched teeth. "We've already had this discussion, which is why I won't remind you that you're forgetting it's also a huge part of who you are. And yeah, I also heard what you said about how that's all wrapped up in poisonous bullshit now, but that's why you go to therapy, Carlisle. That's the whole fucking point. You come to therapy to figure out how to cope, how to resolve the parts of you that feel bad. That's what we're fucking doing here."

"Will you calm down, please?" Carlisle said, glancing around the waiting room even though they were alone.

That pissed Edward off even more. "Who the hell do you think is going to hear me? And you know what? I wouldn't give a shit if someone did hear me. No, I won't calm down. When my husband stops talking like our marriage has an expiration date, then I'll calm down."

"Edward-"

The door opened. Edward shrank back, not looking at the doctor or his husband. "Carlisle and Edward Cullen?"

Beside him, Carlisle sighed as he got to his feet. "I'm Carlisle."

Edward got to his feet and forced a smile he didn't feel as he looked at the doctor. He was an attractive man, about Carlisle and Garrett's age, which made sense. He had a hell of a beard and cautious, piercing eyes.

"That makes you Edward, then," the man said, offering his hand. His shake was firm. He looked between the both of them. "I'm Dr. Alistair St. Clair. You can call me Alistair, if you'd like. Would it be all right for me to call you by your first names?"

"No problems here," Edward said. "But I won't answer for Carlisle. God only knows what he's thinking, because I certainly don't."

Alistair's eyebrows quirked, but he only looked at Carlisle. Edward couldn't find it in himself to feel bad that his husband looked annoyed.

"Carlisle is fine," he said.

"Good. Now that we've settled the more important parts, won't you come in?" He gestured into his office.

Edward didn't follow Carlisle in. He pushed past his husband to take his seat first.

"Okay," Alistair said, sitting down across from them. "Why don't you tell me why you're acting out right now, Edward?" His stare and his tone were commanding with a hint of disapproval. "That seems like a good place to start."

A shock went down Edward's spine. He shifted in his seat, glancing between Alistair and Carlisle and resisting the urge to look down at his toes. He felt a twinge of something it took him a quick second to identify as nerves. A sensation familiar and yet…

Rusty? Was that the word?

Alistair's words were purposeful, and the way he was looking at Edward stirred something deep in his gut. He touched the cuff at his wrist and looked to Carlisle, because it wasn't Alistair's place to be saying those words.

He processed all of that in the space of a second. The next second another chill went down his spine.

Alistair has his number. He had been acting out. The same way he did when he wanted-needed-his Dom's attention.

Edward could see that Carlisle had caught what was happening. He looked miserable. He looked like a man whose every fear was being affirmed.

"I'm-"

Alistair held up a hand. He relaxed back in his seat, slipping out of his role as momentary Dom and back into therapist mode. "In our sessions, I want you to pause before you answer any of my questions. Really think about the answer. There's the answer you want to give in the heat of the moment, and there's the answer that's the truth." He nodded to Edward. "The walls are thin, and I heard yelling I'm going to assume was you."

Edward grimaced.

"So I'm going to ask you again. I already know you're angry." Alistair tilted his head, looking more like a concerned parent-or, more accurately Edward supposed, a concerned therapist-now than a Dom. "Why are you acting out right now?"

As requested, Edward didn't speak right away. He was angry, but he was also thirty years old-more than capable of handling a situation like an adult. What he'd done-shouting at his husband in a public place, embarrassing him in front of Alistair, and then shoving past him-was all childish behavior. Or, more accurately to them, somewhat close to the way he acted when he was in desperate need of release only Carlisle could give.

Edward breathed in and out slowly. "I'm scared," he said finally.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Alistair said with a wave of his hand.

No, Edward very much didn't want to elaborate, but he'd lived with Carlisle too long to run from his feelings so easily. "I'm scared, and that's what makes me so angry. I'm sick of being scared all the time."

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, staring forward, trying to find the right words. "I was scared at first that losing our babies was going to drive us apart. That happens a lot with loss, right? You hear that all the time."

"You said 'at first,'" Alistair said. "Does that mean it's not what you're scared of now?"

Edward exhaled and the violent twisting in his stomach calmed down a notch. He looked to his side and found Carlisle looking back at him. With a small sigh, he held out his hand. His husband looked relieved as he took it. "We're not okay," Edward said, stroking his thumb over Carlisle's knuckles. "We're not healed. We won't be for a long, long time-maybe never. But I think we're dealing with the…" He searched for the right word, and looking in Carlisle's sad eyes, he found it. "The grief. We're dealing with the grief together. Right?"

Carlisle reached out to touch his cheek with his free hand. "Yes." He looked to Alistair. "Edward is my safe haven. Whatever I need in that regard, he gives me. With him, I can rage or cry, and he's always right there with me. We don't grieve differently. We grieve together. He never rejects me or resents me."

"What the hell would I resent?" Edward asked. "There's nothing."

"That's not true," Carlisle said, turning back to him. "There's plenty to resent if you were so inclined."

Edward chuffed. "And you think the same isn't true for you? It was my parents who did this."

Carlisle squeezed his hand. "Your parents did this to both of us. If anything, what they did to you only makes me angrier. If it was only me they'd hurt, that would be almost understandable. I'm the asshole who targeted their innocent baby boy. They've always hated me for that. But you." He shook his head and swallowed hard. Edward could see his jaw go taut. "How could they have done that to you?"

Edward shuddered and clenched his free hand at his side. He closed his eyes, tamping down the rage that rose through him.

Alistair cleared his throat, effectively popping the bubble that had come over them. "Edward, you said you're still scared. What are you scared about now?"

Edward looked down at his lap and played with Carlisle's fingers. "I'm afraid I can't be the strong one."

"What does that mean?" Carlisle asked before Alistair could.

"It means I've always been the taker. That's the way we've always worked. I put everything I am, all my baggage and my issues, on your shoulders to carry while I find freedom and release." He looked up at his beautiful husband from under his eyelashes. "I think you need me to carry you, your issues and your baggage for a while, and I'm scared I'm not strong enough."

Carlisle studied him a beat. "And you were acting out right now…"

"Because when you say things like you've been saying, I don't know how to deal with it," Edward said, his voice tight. He shifted in his seat to face Carlisle. "Or when you get pass-out drunk on my birthday."

Carlisle flinched and tried to pull back, but Edward held his hand fast.

"I wasn't angry," Edward said. "I was scared. You have such perfect control of yourself, but for you to be so far gone you did what you stopped me from doing? Self-medicating?

"I'm trying to do what you've done for me over and over again. I'm trying to be exactly what you need, but I don't know how." Edward held his hand in both of his. "What I did just now-I don't think that was about me needing my Dom. I don't. Not yet. I think I was just trying to scare your confidence and your sureness out of hiding."

They both jumped when Alistair clapped his hands together once. "Congratulations, friends. You're better off than a good eighty percent of my clients. I don't have to convince you that opening up and sharing your feelings is part of what makes therapy work."

He leaned forward. "Okay, Carlisle. It's your turn."

 _ **~0~**_

In the end, Alistair spoke to them together and, briefly, individually. They agreed Edward was dealing as well as anyone could with the the loss of their children. Carlisle guessed that one of the benefits of being raised emotionally detached from his parents meant that their loss wasn't as big a blow to Edward as it could have been. Not everyone benefited from therapy. Edward dealt with his issues much better one-on-one with his husband-it was what made Carlisle such a good match for him.

They set up a schedule of individual counseling for Carlisle and couples therapy interspersed in between. Alistair had warned that he wasn't certified to do couples counseling. However, Edward and Carlisle's marital problems didn't revolve around more normal issues. They were still very much a team. Their love for each other only burned brighter after the tragedy they'd suffered. Alistair had a unique insight into the root of their problems. At the very least, an unbiased third opinion couldn't hurt, or so Carlisle hoped.

"Edward, you've said you want to express your love physically. And Carlisle, you have this desire too. Though you've been able to overcome your uncertainty a time or two to be with Edward, you often find yourself pulling back even though you know you aren't going to be pressured into sex," Alistair had said. "Part of your problem, as you've stated, is that you automatically associate sex with the scene, and right now, you have an aversion to the scene. We'll get to that.

"For now, we want to keep you both communicating physically. There's a lot of fear in both of you at the loss of this part of your relationship. To that end, I have homework and a suggestion.

"The homework is to first disconnect physical intimacy from sex. There are plenty of ways to express your love and simply be together. Find some time this week to cuddle. Naked. But only cuddle. It's better not to be on the bed or anywhere you associate nudity with sex. Find somewhere you can hold each other, touch each other, without any expectation of sex." Alistair smiled at them knowingly. "So no touching below the belt.

"As for my suggestion." He tilted his head at Carlisle. "Get the little blue pill and forget about it. You'll know when the time is right, and if you need assistance, take it then. Have it on hand, but take it slow."

It was two days after their first session that Edward and Carlisle found an evening alone. They glanced at each other as they looked around their living room. Edward laughed. "You thought you were so smart, hiding in plain sight. I don't think there's a single surface we haven't, err...utilized thoroughly." He sighed. "So time to move or what?"

Carlisle snorted. Then he took a shaky breath. "There are still a few places," he said, his voice quiet. His heart had begun to pound erratically. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he reached out and took Edward's hand.

Neither of them spoke as Carlisle led them up the stairs. His heart gave a not-so-quiet pang as he turned down the hallway.

Across from Riley's room and Bree's nursery, there was an open area. There, they'd set up a room where the children could have their own space. When Riley and Bree were living there, the shelves were filled with books. Many of their toys and playsets were out, waiting to be played with. The squat entertainment center was lined with Disney movies.

Now, the space was barren save for the furniture. The shelves were empty, but the TV remained. There was a comfortable couch where they'd lounged often, half-asleep while Riley watched Sesame Street.

Edward took a shaky breath, and Carlisle looked at him. "Bad idea?" he asked.

Edward's eyes darted around the room another handful of moments before he exhaled and turned. He put his hands to the small of Carlisle's back, pulling him closer. "No. It's a good idea." He pressed his cheek to his. "They're a part of us. They're always going to be part of us. I don't want to run from those memories.

"Besides..." Edward's hands went to Carlisle's shirt, and he began undoing the buttons. The way he did it was matter-of-fact, somehow. Not sexy. Just something one husband could do for another. Because they were used to touching each other this way. It wasn't new. It was natural. "I'll never regret that I got to see you like that." He looked up from his work, into Carlisle's eyes, and smiled. "I find something new to love about you every other day."

Warmth spread through Carlisle's chest, soothing the ache of loss the slightest bit. He kissed Edward, though he kept it chaste. They weren't supposed to be instigating anything.

They turned away from each other at the same time, not watching the strip tease. Carlisle sat down on the sofa, and Edward followed him. It was a wide sofa-the kind Carlisle liked-and so it wasn't difficult for them both to lie on their sides lengthwise across it. Carlisle propped one hand behind his head, leaving the other arm open so Edward could fit himself against his side. Edward did him one better and laid draped mostly across him-his arm thrown over his chest and his legs tangling.

It was surprisingly innocent. Carlisle had been dubious about how they were supposed to make being naked together non-sexual. In the end, though, Alistair was right. Skin to skin contact was about bonding, not sex.

Though they were both getting better, every day was still a struggle. Simply to put one foot in front of the other was exhausting. Worrying about each other-Carlisle worrying when all of this was going to blow up in his face-was all the more stressful.

This was peaceful. Edward's weight on top of him, his heat, the scent of his skin-it was all calming. He traced the shape of Edward's spine, careful to keep away from known erogenous zones. He kissed his husband. Slow kisses. They both relaxed, their bodies draining of tension. Carlisle closed his eyes, finding solace in the sensation. Edward's kisses, his hands, his soft, contented sighs.

The longer it went on, the more Carlisle finally understood why Alistair had suggested it. This was lovemaking. They were expressing their feelings physically, giving and receiving equally. Edward knew his body. Knew the pleasure-not erotic pleasure, but pleasure-Carlisle felt when he stroked the tips of his fingers over the flesh of his throat. It sent delightful chills through his whole body. He tilted his head back so Edward could press a tender kiss there.

He played with Edward's hair, scratching right behind the ears. He'd teased Edward often that he was just an overgrown puppy that way; he loved when Carlisle stroked that spot.

When they were finally ready to disentangle themselves and head to bed-to sleep-they looked at each other. Edward looked like he often had after sex-love drunk and sated. Carlisle felt it too. That feeling that of all the seven billion people on the planet, this one was his. They overlapped. They were bonded.

For once, in the months since they'd lost their children, Carlisle fell asleep without a heavy thought. He fell asleep still locked in a warm bubble, where nothing in the world mattered except the man who drifted off in his arms. It wasn't hope. It was just a few wonderful minutes of bliss. It was a small slice of peace, sheltered and protected from the maelstrom. The calm eye of the storm.

* * *

 **A/N: As always, thank you to my lovely girls for making my docs a wonderful place to be.**

 **I'm late for work. Again. Agh!**

 **How are you out there?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: How was your weekend, duckies? I didn't get nearly enough writing done! But my brain took a rest.**

 **Shorty chapter, so I'll probably update sooner than later.**

* * *

"So here's a question," Alistair said mid-way through their second individual session.

Carlisle rubbed at his temple and waited for the therapist to continue.

"When you began to suspect you couldn't fulfil your role as a Dom, why did you immediately jump to the conclusion that it could cost you your marriage?"

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

"It's a possibility, but there are many others."

Carlisle shook his head in a jerky motion, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. "None that are fair. None that would make Edward as happy and fulfilled as he deserves to be."

Alistair smiled at him. "Have you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"Of course."

"Your honesty with your husband is commendable and necessary to good communication. That being said, has Edward been happy?"

Carlisle frowned. "No."

"No," Alistair agreed. "Again, I'm not discouraging your honesty and communication. I'm merely pointing out a logical fallacy in your thought process. You fear you won't be good enough for Edward. He feels he's not strong enough for you. Neither one of you are happy, and that's a recipe for disaster. With that mentality, you may lose your marriage before the issue of Doms and subs even comes up."

Carlisle turned his head to stare out the window, a fresh rush of fear sending a jolt down his spine.

"My point is simply that you have blinders on. You want the answer to the big question, but there are many smaller questions that need answers, too." Alistair sat back in his chair and swept his arm wide. "Take a moment and consider. Perhaps I'm wrong. Do you and Edward have everything figured out? There's nothing else you're worried about except that you can't be his Dom anymore?"

After a moment's consideration, Carlisle had to laugh. "We're more than Dom and sub. So much more, but right now, everything I can think of is related somehow."

"That's understandable. A huge part of your identity has been shaken. It's only natural to dwell." Alistair tapped his chin thoughtfully. "As I recall, you and your husband were Dom and sub before you were anything else?"

"As far as our personal relationship, that's right. Professionally, he was my student before he was anything else." A small smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the day he met Edward. He'd been harried—his nose buried in a patient's chart when his new intern was introduced. When he did look up, he was startled by Edward's eyes. Not the color, though that shade of green was stunning to say the least. There was just so much life in those jade depths, so much it took him weeks and months to understand. Intelligence, humor, eagerness, stubbornness, and pride.

Who could have predicted that brilliant, gorgeous twenty-three year old man would become his most important person—the love of his life?

"For some, it helps to engage in a sort of roleplay," Alistair said. "Nothing kinky. I'm speaking about something as simple as going back to the dating stage of your relationship."

"Dating?" Carlisle cocked his head. "We never dated."

Alistair brightened. "No time like the present for second chances." He looked at Carlisle with a smile. "Your relationship with your husband built itself around this core of the D/s relationship. With the level of trust and devotion in our community, that's a beautiful thing."

His look turned more serious as he considered his words for a moment. "I hope you'll understand and forgive my choice of words here. What you're going through is not unlike what a rape victim might."

Carlisle bristled. Those were strong words he was inclined to reject vehemently, but Alistair raised a hand to stave off his protest.

"What I mean is: you suffered a severe trauma that has shaken a core piece of your identity. You have an aversion to sex because sex is connected to that trauma." Alistair tilted his head. "Let me ask you this. Why do you want to have sex with your husband? Or rather, is the reason you want to have sex with your husband for his benefit only? You want to keep him happy and satisfied?"

"No," Carlisle said, not needing to think about the question at all. He gave Alistair a wry look. "He asked me the same question, because I've been with him as much as I could without him being able to reciprocate.

"I don't push myself. Well, I try not to. Sometimes I get stubborn about it." Carlisle grimaced. "It's strange to go through the motions of being turned on and not be able to bring that to fulfilment. Do you know what I mean? Edward will do something that drives me crazy." He gave a short laugh. "Hell, all he has to do is stand there. My husband is a beautiful man. I'm attracted to him. I want him. I get all the normal reactions—the pull, the chills and electricity, the desire. Everything works except the most important part, so to speak. I get frustrated, and that's when it becomes less about being with Edward and more about trying to force my body to do something it obviously doesn't want to do."

Carlisle considered a moment before he spoke again. "I suppose what I'm saying is, sex—as limited as it is for me at the moment—isn't a chore. I find great pleasure and satisfaction in simply being with my husband, and I find personal enjoyment in giving him pleasure. I've never been the kind of person who believes everyone has to orgasm for sex to be worthwhile or fair."

"Good." Alistair nodded. "You have a healthy outlook on sex, which goes back to what I was saying. You've been through a trauma, and that trauma has affected your healthy sexual function.

"You're a doctor. You understand better than most people that what your body is capable of, especially when you have some kind of impairment, isn't always in line with where your mind is. A person who's had replacement knee surgery might feel up to running a marathon in a month, but their body isn't going to cooperate with that desire."

He waved a hand, fixing Carlisle with a penetrating look, as though gauging his response. "The reason I use a word as strong as rape in comparison is because I feel like you might have some context for that. There are a lot of similarities to draw here." He ticked off on his fingers. "You experienced an intrusion into your sex life by persons who didn't have your consent. You were rendered helpless—there was nothing you could do to prevent your children from being taken. There was violence in that act, both in what Edward's parents accused you of and the sudden way the director laid down his final decision. There are a lot of the same mechanisms of guilt and self-blame. You've said you find yourself second-guessing what you've been doing with Edward. That you have beat him and treated him roughly. Or even guilt as small as the fact that it was you who drove your family to the agency."

By that point, Carlisle's teeth were gritted. He didn't like the comparison—rape victims had been through real trauma. Still, he thought he understood what Alistair was saying. He hadn't thought of it like that before. Of course, he understood he was grieving, but he hadn't considered it as psychological trauma that had been inflicted on him.

Alistair gave a short nod as though he saw Carlisle wasn't rejecting what he was saying outright. "These are things we'll work through, but for now, let's go back to what I was saying before."

"Dating?" Carlisle asked, relieved to let go of that line of conversation for the time being.

"Yes. Stop me if any of this feels off to you. You think you'll be unable to fulfil Edward's needs because of the trauma you've suffered. This is understandable. Your whole relationship is built with the D/s dynamic as a cornerstone, a central tenet. You're operating under the assumption Edward is the same person he's always been and therefore that his needs are or will be the same."

Alistair paused, looking at Carlisle for argument or confirmation. Carlisle nodded slowly. It was easy to pick out the keywords Alistair was trying to get him to see, but he didn't understand the conclusion yet.

"Carlisle, your husband is not the same man he was when this all began anymore than you're the same. Which isn't to say you don't know him. He's still your husband, and as you've indicated, you have already grown together in this experience. Your partnership is solid. Your love for each other is solid and secure, but there's some reorienting to do. Your needs have changed, or are in the process of changing, and Edward's have, too. Regardless of where either of you end up in terms of needs, it's not helpful to think about it in the context of who either of you were. Following?"

"Yes," Carlisle said slowly.

Alistair nodded. "So, as I said. In some cases, for some people, role-playing helps. It may help you to reset your relationship as part of a scenario. Pretend you're on a first date, a second date. Make silly, romantic gestures—chocolates, flowers, whatever. Plan a special outing. Most importantly, ask the getting-to-know-you questions that are typical of a first date.

"Even in the absence of trauma, people often change in small ways without their spouses realizing it. Edward may have picked up a new hobby or interest you weren't aware of. Perhaps he wants to talk about a book he read. Whatever. The point of dating is to find compatibility. In any event, it may act as a starting place for you and Edward to reorient your relationship based on who each of you are now." A small smile quirked at the edge of his lips. "Take a step back from the Carlisle and Edward as you knew them and get to know and accept yourselves, vanilla as you are for the time being."

Carlisle huffed out a laugh. "I thought you weren't a couples therapist."

"I'm not." Alistair leaned forward in his seat. "Here's the thing, Carlisle. Your self-esteem is shaken, but only in one category. This is something we're going to have to explore. You know you're a competent surgeon, a good person in general. You know you're a good friend, though I know you have concerns about Esme's well-being. You're a little shaky about whether or not you're a good son, but you also acknowledge that you know your father isn't a good father." Alistair tilted his head and said the next words carefully. "How do you feel about yourself as a father? Were you a good father?"

Carlisle's words seized in his throat, sending an arch of pain straight to the center of his heart. He had to swallow several times before he was able to speak at all. "I was a great father," he said in a whisper.

That was, perhaps, the worst part of his grief—his fear for his children. He'd put in a lot of time and effort into being the parent Riley especially needed. Bree was a little easier; she'd been so young, she only needed love to thrive. Riley was old enough to have anger and fear in him. It had been gratifying to watch Riley's walls fall away with the consistent love, affection, and attention Carlisle and Edward had showed him.

Carlisle simply didn't trust that anyone else had the ability to raise Riley and Bree the way he and Edward could. His children weren't lucky to have lost them. If he could get them back right that minute, he would have complete faith that they were exactly where they belonged.

Alistair nodded. "So you see, your issue is solely who you are as a husband. As such, as your therapist, that's going to be where my concentration is. In our sessions, we're going to go back to my original question. You've clamped hard and fast to the idea that your marriage is most likely doomed because you feel like you can't be a Dom anymore. You have tunnel vision as you don't see another outcome.

"In reality, couples will react any number of ways when a relationship-altering trauma occurs. We're going to unpack the reasons why you're stuck there, but you and I are both aware that life doesn't pause and wait for you to get better. Edward's happiness, or unhappiness as it is, reinforces your psyche's insistence that you're not a good husband. As you might imagine, that's doing nothing good for your self-esteem, and self-esteem is a lot of the reason you're having problems with erectile function."

As a doctor, Carlisle appreciated Alistair's blunt, clinical wording. As a man, he blushed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Alistair fixed him with a small, wry smile and continued. "My suggestions are an attempt to shift your concentration. Try not to dwell on a future possibility that seems, at this point, insurmountable. It's a non-issue for the moment—like worrying about if you're going to get into grad school when you haven't even graduated high school yet. So as we work through these issues, try to exist in the present."

Carlisle pressed his lips together, considering the man's words. "Get to know my husband of nearly five years?" He cracked a smile at the thought.

"That's why they call it role-playing," Alistair said with a grin. "At the very least, you'll have some fun, right?"

"Fun." Carlisle's life had been so heavy for so long, he wondered if he was capable of it. "Well, no harm trying, I suppose."

* * *

 **A/N: Have a good week, lovelies!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Good morning, sunshines. I am SLEEPY.**

* * *

Edward was well aware he was being coaxed awake. He was still tired—his brain mostly still cloudy from sleep—but he was playing possum, enjoying the sensation of Carlisle gently sucking at his earlobe. He was propped behind Edward, on his side, leaning over him. The warmth of his body behind Edward's back was pleasant. Too pleasant to give up just yet.

"Wake up, baby," Carlisle said, his lips just below Edward's ear. "We're going to miss the plane."

Edward's eyes flew open, and he rolled onto his back, finding his husband hovering above him. "Plane? What?" He searched his memories. Did one or both of them have a conference he'd completely forgotten about?

Carlisle looked amused. He tapped out a mindless rhythm with his fingertips against Edward's bare chest. "You're right. I'm getting a little ahead of myself. You'll have to be patient with me. I'm new to the dating scene. It was rude of me to assume you'd say yes."

"Dating scene?" Edward repeated dumbly. "What the hell does a date have to do with planes?"

"Alistair suggested we try dating." He took Edward's hand and entwined their fingers "It's a means of reconnecting and getting to know each other again."

Edward's lips tugged down at the corners. "He thinks we don't know each other?" He liked Alistair a lot, but that was going to change pretty damn quickly if he started filling Carlisle's head with more bullshit they were going to need to overcome.

"That's not what I meant."

Carlisle lay beside Edward, nuzzling his cheek as he recapped his therapy session from two days previous. He'd been quiet about it, and Edward hadn't pushed, as much as he desperately wanted to.

"Okay," Edward said, feeling hopeful. If dating his husband had therapeutic value, he wasn't going to argue that point. "I still don't understand what that has to do with planes, though?"

Carlisle's grin grew surprisingly mischievous. "Well, he never said we had to date in this city."

Edward laughed. He took his chin in his hand and kissed him. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"When it comes to you?" Carlisle's smile was gentle and his touch reverent. "No. I never could."

 _ **~0~**_

Almost as soon as they landed in San Francisco, Carlisle turned his head away from Edward's kiss. "This is a first date. I'm looking forward to the anticipation of the first kiss. Will it or won't it happen."

Edward shook his head. "You are such a jackass."

"Hmm. I'm not sure if this is going to work out. You're awfully mouthy. It doesn't make a good first impression," Carlisle said, but he took Edward's small rolling suitcase from him.

"Oh, I'm not too worried. A little bird told me you have a thing for mouthy assholes." He teased, but a stab of fear went through Edward at the words. This was all about finding themselves again—the things that had changed.

But Carlisle only smiled. "It's a weakness," he said.

 _ **~0~**_

Their first stop was a coffee shop called Sightglass Coffee.

"San Francisco coffee is supposed to be unrivaled," Carlisle said. He sounded dubious at best.

Edward snorted. "We...I live in Seattle. I'm pretty sure I know how coffee is done."

"You live in Seattle? Well, what a happy coincidence. So do I."

"What a small world. The good news is we'll be able to see each other easily if this works out."

Carlisle chuckled. They ordered and retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy their coffee.

"Moment of truth," Edward said.

Carlisle raised his coffee cup. The way he was eyeing it was endlessly amusing to Edward. He watched his husband over the edge of his own cup as they sipped and laughed when Carlisle pulled a face. "I think it's pretty good."

"It's not horrible." Carlisle stared at the cup, sloshing the liquid around as though it had offended him. "It just lacks a robust quality I've come to expect from coffee. I like a smooth drink as much as the next man, but there should be at least some sense that this is a coffee drink."

Edward burst out laughing. "Carlisle, you're a fucking coffee snob. How did I not know this?"

"I'm not a coffee snob. I just know what coffee should taste like."

"You drink the sludge at the hospital."

"I drink that to survive, not to enjoy a drink."

Edward only laughed again, but he soon settled into a smile. "Well, maybe there is something to this dating thing. I can't believe you kept your coffee snobbery to yourself all this time."

"Again, all I said was that I know what coffee should taste like," Carlisle said, though he was smiling across the table, the look in his eyes tender.

"I'll take you to Colombia and put that theory to the test."

"That's hardly first date talk."

"It's been awhile since I've been on a first date. You'll have to forgive me."

Carlisle cocked his head, his brow slightly furrowed as he considered Edward. "Did you date a lot?"

Edward quirked an eyebrow and sipped his coffee, thinking. Carlisle wasn't the jealous type in general, and his tone was merely curious. Still, it struck him as weird that they'd never had this conversation. Carlisle knew about Garrett, of course, and that he'd had a string of one night stands with one-night Doms. He also knew about Benjamin, but they'd never talked about other romances. Carlisle was his first and only love, but that didn't mean he'd been celibate before and after Benjamin.

"I didn't really have the time," Edward said. "Graduated early from everything, and I was nineteen when Benjamin found me."

Carlisle frowned. "You weren't a virgin when you met him, were you?"

Edward snorted. "No, but you asked about dating not sex." He cocked his head. "Although, now that I think about it, I suppose I dated a boy in high school. We were both seniors."

"Which means he was older than you," Carlisle said, a smirk playing at his lips.

Edward rolled his eyes. "I never did play well with kids my age." He took another sip, remembering. "He wasn't the first boy I'd been with, ever kissed or touched. You know I knew I was gay from a young age. But this boy—he was the most important, and yes, he was the first one I went all the way with." He covered his face with his hands. "Oh, Christ. Jesus, it's been a long time since I've thought about him."

"You're blushing." Carlisle sounded delighted. "I need a story that makes Edward Cullen blush."

"Fuck, okay." Edward shook his head and touched his cheek as if he could wipe away the heat there. "His name was Felix. Felix Bertoluci. He was my bully."

Carlisle sat up straight. "Your bully? You dated your bully?"

"Yeah, well...What I mean is he had the classic bullying behavior but not overtly so. What I'm trying to say is...ugh." Edward rubbed the back of his neck. This was coming out all wrong. "It wasn't really that traumatic. The bullying part, I mean. I was barely fifteen, and I hadn't filled out to this god-like physique you're used to." He gestured down at himself.

Carlisle's concerned expression faded into a smirk. "Next thing you're going to tell me is you were modest as a child."

"Well, no. I was a god damned show off."

"Imagine my surprise."

Edward grinned at his husband. "Bottom line, I wasn't terrible looking, you know, but I was a skinny, fifteen-year-old nerd who was so good at school I was going to graduate with the big, beefy eighteen year olds."

"So Felix was a big, beefy eighteen year old." Carlisle chuckled.

"Christ, he had to have been about as big across the shoulders as Emmett. And he was a jock."

"Edward. The star of the football team? Really?"

"Naw. The star of the football team was this blond-haired, blue eyed pretty boy. Felix had dark hair." He sighed. "Anyway. Like I said. He teased me. Nothing horrible and nothing gay-bashing." He pressed his lips together. "I don't know that I was ever really in the closet. I just didn't talk about it, you know? My parents…" His throat tightened, and he had to swallow before he could continue. "My parents wouldn't have wanted me involved with anyone, girl or boy. They thought high school relationships were just a distraction from my ultimate goal."

He waved a hand. He definitely didn't want to talk about his parents. "The point is the teasing was all about me being a scrawny baby senior. And he would do a few other things. Grab my backpack and haul me backward. Again, not hard. Nothing traumatic. Teasing. He mussed my hair and stole my glasses. Pain in the ass, jock behavior."

"He had a crush on you. He was a little boy pulling on a girl's pigtails because aggression is how boys show they love you." Carlisle said with a smirk.

"Yes, well. I know that now. Back then I…"

Carlisle laughed. "There's that blush again."

Edward growled but then he smiled. "Okay, fine. It's just embarrassing, but despite all the jockyness, I had the hugest crush on him. Can you blame me? He was big and strong and gorgeous and...don't judge me. I was fifteen."

Carlisle had a hand over his mouth, trying to cover his grin and failing. "No judgment here. Please continue."

"So one day, he separates from his pack and follows me down the hallway. You know, despite all the crushing and the fact the crap he did wasn't terrible, I wasn't naive. I knew there could be trouble, so I was a little nervous. So when he grabs me by the backpack and hauls me back again, I kicked him in the shin.

"It was kind of hilarious, looking back, because here's this big football player, hopping around the hallway on one leg, doing the ouch-ouch-ouch dance. He was yelling, 'God damn, Masen. I need that leg to kick a football. Fuck, if you ruined my scholarship, I'm going to kick your ass.' And, of course, because I never could keep my big mouth shut, I yell back at him, 'That's why I kicked you in your ass-kicking leg, fucknugget. I'm feeling pretty safe over here.'"

"Fucknugget?"

Edward pointed to himself. "Fifteen-year-old kid. Come on now."

Carlisle waved a hand, bemused. "Sorry. Do go on."

"For the record, I wasn't feeling safe. I was thinking how many humongous guys this guy hung out with and what they could all do to me, but then he laughed. He laughed and he threw his arm around my shoulder and was like, 'You're all right, Masen. Tough for a little kid, but I don't want to fight you. I want you to tutor me. Seeing how you're supposed to be the genius and all.'"

"Interesting. So, obviously, you said yes."

Edward huffed. "Pass up a chance to get to look at him and add tutoring to my college application? Like the guy said—I'm a genius. It wasn't a hard decision to make.

"So we arrange a tutoring schedule. He came to my house, and I was a good boy."

"I'm sure you were," Carlisle said in a tone that said he believed the exact opposite.

"I was. I got down to tutoring, trying to ignore that he was sitting right beside me, getting all up in my personal space as he leaned in to go over the work with me. And then… I don't even know what happened. I turned my head to explain the War of the Roses to him, and he was kissing me."

"Smooth," Carlisle said.

"I was smitten. So, long story short, I guess we dated all throughout senior year. It was weird. He was pretty deep in the closet, and like I said, I was supposed to be knee-deep in school work and AP classes. But Felix was quite charming. He said he didn't want me to kiss anyone else while we were in school together, so he had to keep me happy. So we'd go on these covert dates at least across the city from anyone we knew." He sighed, remembering. "It was nice. He took me to Homecoming—by which I mean he went stag and told me to go stag and we snuck away to make out under the bleachers. For Prom, he went all out—by which I mean we didn't actually go. He stole his dad's credit card, we made up excuses to our parents, drove half the state away to a schmancy hotel for the weekend, and had a lot of sex." Edward shrugged. "Well, there was other stuff, too. The kind of romantic stuff an eighteen year old would think of, but you know…"

"You were a teenager. You were there for the sex."

"Exactly."

Carlisle sat back in his chair, staring at Edward, looking highly amused. "That was a charming story, Edward. Very good first date material."

Edward tilted his head, staring his husband down with a smirk playing at his lips. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, but if you'll allow me a moment to be too forward, this really is the last first date I intend to have."

Carlisle reached across the table and caressed Edward's cheek. "I do so very much love you."

A familiar warmth spread through Edward's chest, and he smiled. He placed his hand over Carlisle's against his cheek. "Now who's being too forward?"

 _ **~0~**_

Carlisle had planned a whole day of dates.

"You know this is cheating, right?" Edward asked, as they worked their rented paddle boat to the middle of the lake in Golden Gate Park. "It's one date per day, usually. You've got what, four planned? Coffee. Lunch and paddle boating. And you also want dinner and drinks?"

"And a walk on the beach at sunset," Carlisle said, his smile serene. He folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the cloudless sky.

"See? Cheating. Also, you're not supposed to tell me what's coming next. There should be some mystery to the whole thing."

"Ah. Surprises are romantic, are they?"

"That's the word on the street. You want another pointer?"

"Apparently, I need all the help I can get."

Edward turned his head to look at Carlisle. "If you haven't secured the first kiss by the fourth date, you're in trouble."

"Is that how it works?"

Carlisle looked so relaxed and happy, as though he'd left all his heaviness back in Washington. Maybe that was why he'd wanted to get away for a couple of days, to put down his burdens and pretend for awhile.

Either way, Edward wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when Carlisle was looking at him like that—all tenderness and adoration. He was such a beautiful man, his smile wide and his hair gleaming gold in the California sunshine.

Carlisle brushed his fingers through Edward's hair, cupping his hand around the back of his neck. It was strange, but somehow Edward found himself wondering how this would have happened for them if they hadn't gotten together the way they had. If they had dated, Edward imagined he would have been on tenterhooks, wondering when his gorgeous date was going to kiss him. More likely, he probably would have been waiting for the perfect time to initiate the kiss.

Edward tilted his head, closing his eyes as Carlisle kissed him. It was a tentative kiss—like a real first kiss often was. It was a mere brush of their lips at first, as though neither of them could quite believe the other was picking up the same vibe. Edward shivered, feeling the thrill of connection. Their lips met again, firmer now, assured. Sweet, innocent first kisses on a sunshiney day.

 _ **~0~**_

As Carlisle had planned, it was late afternoon when they got to Ghirardelli Square. They strolled hand in hand, eating Ghirardelli ice cream as they checked out the local wares. Edward teased him for being a cheesy bastard when he bought him a single long-stemmed rose, but his chocolate flavored kiss was an enthusiastic one.

Carlisle bought a blanket and they made their way to the beach. They settled on the sand, and Carlisle draped the blanket over both their shoulders, warding off the cool evening air. He wrapped an arm around Edward, stroking his back. Edward rested his head on his shoulder and they stared out at the sea together.

They were quiet, enjoying the chatter around them and the steady pulse of the waves on the sand. This was the nice thing about the fact they weren't actually new to each other. They didn't need to fill every moment with words. They said as much with their gentle touches—the way the fingers of their free hands twined together, playing and caressing—as they'd said with words all day.

It had been a good day. Alistair had been right. Carlisle and Edward were so close it had been a long time since they'd actually spent the day merely talking. Small talk. Not about work, the future, or social engagements. They talked about all the minutiae—the things that made them tick, anecdotes from their pasts, the random things on their bucket lists.

Carlisle rubbed his cheek against Edward's soft hair, staring out at the ocean without seeing it. He loved this man. The depth of the emotion he felt was all consuming at times. It was part of him—written into his genetic makeup.

"Edward," Carlisle murmured, his lips at his crown.

"Hmm?" It was a content sound, and Edward didn't raise his head to look.

Carlisle was relieved. His heart had begun to pound, and he wasn't at all certain about what he was about to say. He was, however, certain he wanted to say it. He took Edward's hand and squeezed tightly. "I want to talk to Bella when we get home."

Now Edward did raise his head. He stared at Carlisle, his eyes wide with hope. "You mean about what she offered?"

A wave of nausea made Carlisle dizzy, but he nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" Edward asked, the word breathless. "We spend one day together, and you're suddenly sure we're going to make it?"

Carlisle was quiet for a handful of moments, putting together his words. "I still need you to know that I would never blame you if there ever came a time you needed to leave me. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to settle for less than what you deserve out of some kind of obligation or even love for me." His throat threatened to close around the words, but they needed to be said. He still knew that there was every possibility they couldn't be put back together in the long run, not as everything they'd been to each other. "But I've been wrapped up in a distant future. Days like today, it's easier to see that possibility as not only distant, but unlikely."

"Impossible," Edward muttered.

Not impossible, Carlisle thought, but he didn't want to have that fight again. Not now. He angled his body so he was facing Edward a little more and took both his hands in his. "At home, it's hard to look around and not see everything we've lost. I know you don't blame me, but I failed you and our kids."

Edward shook his head vehemently. "No."

Carlisle raised a finger to his husband's lips, silencing his protest. "It's what I feel, and it's difficult to let it go."

He raised Edward's hand to his lips and pressed a long kiss there. "Almost every day you've been mine, I've looked at you and felt so lucky. Even now, it's hard for me to really grasp that you could choose me, that you continue to choose me. My love, that's more of a miracle than any one person should expect from their life.

"So sometimes, I feel like I asked too much. To have you and to have a family with you. That's paradise, isn't it? Heaven on Earth. I asked for it once, and I couldn't take care of them, of you."

" _Carlisle_."

Carlisle chuckled, his smile wry. "Feelings, Edward." He touched his cheek. "Tell me you're not scared to think about this again."

Edward closed his eyes and leaned into Carlisle's touch. "I'm terrified," he whispered.

"I am too." Carlisle took a deep breath. "But I'm not going to deny I still want this with you. I want to be a family again, to hold our child in my arms. To watch you be a father. There's a lot we can't have. There's a lot we may have to fight for in the future." He swallowed hard. "And that means there's a possibility we'll lose, but this we can have. You should be a father. I can give you that. I can have that with you."

Edward's eyes brightened, cautious hope turning into excitement. He lunged at Carlisle knocking him back onto the sand and peppering his face with kisses.

Carlisle laughed, kissing him back when he could. "Edward," he said breathlessly. "We have a reservation for dinner to get to."

"Who the hell needs food?" Edward took his face in his hands and kissed him. "I have everything I need right here, right now."

* * *

 **A/N: That was better, yes? Monday morning pick me up.**

 **So many thanks to Packy 2.0, JessyPT, Mina, songster, and barburella. I love my docs and my beautiful girls.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: This marks the end of my cushion. EEEP. But it also marks the last week of classes for the semester. Hopefully will have some breathing room soon.**

* * *

"Give me a minute. I just want to sit still a minute. Then we'll go out."

As he spoke, Carlisle's eyelids were already drooping. Edward watched with some amusement as Carlisle's head bowed and his hands went slack over the arms of the chair. He waited another few minutes, just watching. When he was sure his husband was well and truly asleep, he walked over to the chair and guided the recliner back. He knew Carlisle would wake with a neckache if he slept like that.

Once he had him settled and was sure he would stay asleep, Edward headed toward the kitchen. He was tired, too. That was why they'd decided to go out for dinner, so neither of them had to cook, but Carlisle was exhausted.

When they'd taken Riley and Bree in, Carlisle had taken a position at the hospital that had allowed him to have more normal hours. In the last few months, he'd been helping out in the emergency room now and again on top of his normal duties. When he did, he always came home ready to fall over. Edward had known an evening out was a long shot.

He didn't mind. Usually, they ordered pizza, but Edward was on a mission tonight. He opened up his laptop, reviewed the contents of the freezer and fridge, and did a few recipe searches. Of the two of them, Carlisle was the better cook, but Edward knew how to follow instructions.

Forty-five minutes later, his kitchen smelled amazing. He gave everything a once over and went to see if he could rouse his husband.

Carlisle hadn't stirred at all. Edward smiled and took another few moments to stare. He ran his fingers up into Carlisle's hair. He had such fine, soft hair.

"Wake up, lazy bones," Edward said, stroking the tip of Carlisle's nose. "Wake up, my love. I must feed you."

Carlisle opened his eyes slowly, blinking. Edward traced the pad of his finger around his lips, waiting for his eyes to focus. Carlisle took a deep breath through his nose and smiled. "Hey," he said, his voice cracking.

"Hey, you."

"I'm sorry," Carlisle said around a yawn. "I fell asleep."

"I noticed," Edward said, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Come on. Are you hungry?"

Carlisle hummed. He stroked his fingers along Edward's arms, looking into his eyes with a tender, sleepy look. He tugged on his arm. "Come sit with me."

"Dinner—"

"Just a minute."

Edward came around the front of the chair and sat on Carlisle's lap. He wrapped his arm around his neck, steadying himself as they both shifted. Carlisle's arms were strong and firm behind his back, holding him upright.

Being in that position, Edward felt a pang. How often had Carlisle held him just like this after a scene? He'd stroked his back, just as he was doing now, letting him make his way out of subspace. Or when he'd punished him and then held him there, kissing his hair and telling him he was a good, good boy.

In that moment, Edward was hit by a longing so intense, he nearly moaned. That had been nearly as painful as the pangs he got when he remembered something his children had done. He had the urge to slide down onto his knees and rest his head on Carlisle's lap.

Somehow, he managed to keep what he was feeling off his face. Carlisle was still staring at him, his sleepy smile serene. They'd gotten good at this kind of connection. Intimacy disconnected from sex, Alistair had said. And really, it was exactly what they needed. He hoped they were getting through to Carlisle's psyche. He couldn't speak for his husband, but he felt safe and cherished—worthy of love.

Carlisle's kiss was tender, and Edward closed his eyes, melting against his husband's body. They kissed and Carlisle caressed his hair, his cheeks, the space under his eyes.

When he broke the kiss, Carlisle took Edward's face between his hands. Edward opened his eyes to find Carlisle staring at him, his expression soft but ultimately unreadable.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

Carlisle pursed his lips, searching his face. "When we were first married, I mean literally that first night, I didn't sleep even a minute."

Edward chuckled. "Well, that's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

"For me, I mean. You wore my ass _out_ that night. I've never slept better."

Carlisle grinned. "I wanted to sleep," he said, sobering. "I couldn't. I was having the most absurd line of thought. I was thinking about our vows, and that we would inevitably face hardships."

"Everyone faces hardships whether or not they're in a relationship."

"I did say it was absurd." Carlisle tapped his finger against Edward's chin absently. "When I was single, I never thought twice about the idea I would face hardships. But knowing you would face my hardships too was different."

" _We_ face _our_ hardships," Edward said. "Which is actually one of the advantages of marriage."

Carlisle smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "It's a great comfort. It's just, at the time, I wondered what our hardships would be." He swallowed hard, that old grief coloring his features. "And now, I wonder if what happened to us is better or worse than all the things I imagined that night." He looked into Edward's eyes. "Would you think it's terrible that I don't think this was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to us?"

Edward took a deep, slow breath before he answered. "Do you remember when that bridge collapsed? The same bridge you drive almost every day around the same time you would have been driving it?"

"The day I didn't charge my phone?"

Edward swallowed hard, a jolt of residual fear going right through him. "I really thought you were dead," he said in a strangled whisper. "That was the worst thing. To lose you or to lose them like _that._ That would be worse."

Carlisle was quiet, but he nodded. His eyes followed the path his fingers traced along Edward's cheek, his throat. "You're going to ask me about what I said in San Francisco, aren't you?"

Now, it was Edward's turn to be quiet.

They'd called Bella that night in San Francisco and asked her to meet them for dinner when they got back home the next evening. Edward had been so excited. But when they landed and turned on their phones, there was a message from Bella saying her work had sent her to New York City to manage some sudden crisis in their other office. She was gone for a week.

When she got home, Carlisle didn't mention talking to her again. In fact, there had been a distinct lack of talking about the subject. Edward hadn't pushed, but another week had gone by. And then two.

He raised his eyes to look at Carlisle. "I just need to know. Either way, I need to know."

"I know I've been unfair to you." Carlisle said, his tone sincere. "It was an impulsive thing for me to say. When we were in San Francisco, when it was just us and not all the memories here, it was easy to say what I wanted." He cupped Edward's cheek again. "It is what I want. More than anything."

"But?"

"No but. Not really." The skin at the corner of his eyes tightened. "Just because we lost Riley and Bree doesn't exempt us from hardship the rest of our lives. There will be bad times again, and if—"

Edward took his hands and squeezed tightly. "Carlisle," he said, resting his forehead against his husband's. The thought, the fear, of what could be made him dizzy with fear. Of course he understood. If they did this, they were opening themselves up to a world of potential pain. There were the months of hoping and disappointment if Bella didn't conceive. There was always the possibility of miscarriage or some fatal deformity. There was always the possibility their baby would be born with a disease, and they'd have to watch their child waste away, its life reduced to pain and discomfort. The world was capable of a limitless variety of suffering, and it would find them again somehow.

They'd lost two children. That was far more than any parent could be expected to withstand.

Edward took a deep breath, pushing down the thoughts. "It's like you said, though. Losing our kids doesn't exempt us from hardship. Anything could happen. I could get sick. You could get in an accident tomorrow."

Carlisle held him tightly against him, as though that thought too was unbearable. And it was. Edward clung back just as tightly.

"I'd understand, you know," Edward said, his words muffled against Carlisle's skin. "If you need more time. I wasn't ready when Bella sprang that on us. It's just hard not to think about."

Carlisle pulled back so he could look at Edward. "You wouldn't be angry if I said yes only to take it back now?"

"Well, I'm not saying I'd be thrilled. I'd be disappointed, but—"

Carlisle laughed and kissed him soundly. Then he sighed. "I'm not even remotely ready, but I'm also as ready as I'm ever going to be." He smiled at Edward—a shaky but genuine smile. "I want this with you so much it's terrifying."

"So we are going to do this? For real?"

Carlisle's smile broadened. "Yes, sweetheart. I—"

Anything else he might have said was cut off when Edward kissed him. A long, exuberant kiss.

"I love you," he said when they were both breathless. He grinned. "Now get off your ass. Dinner is getting cold."

 _ **~0~**_

Carlisle kept his word, and they had Bella over for dinner the very next day.

For the most part, Carlisle was sanguine with the idea. The pieces of him that were conflicted were easy enough to ignore. His fears were intangible. He had some guilt—some part of him felt as though it was wrong to try to replace Riley and Bree like this—but he knew it wasn't as simple as all that.

The quieter voices in his head were easily silenced, swept under the rug to be dealt with in his next session with Alistair. Mostly, he felt a growing sense of excitement. He wanted to be a father. He wanted it very badly.

This was the start of a new journey. His heart still ached, remembering the beginning this journey in a much different way over a year before. There would always be the pain of how that journey had ended for them, but now there was the hope of a new beginning. They were scheming a whole new life into existence starting today.

They tried to play it cool, inviting Bella in and attending to the niceties first. They asked how she was doing and offered her something to drink. But it was only a few minutes before she narrowed her eyes at them. "Oh, hell," she said under her breath.

"What?" Edward asked.

"You're about to say yes to what I offered, aren't you?" She looked a tone or two paler than she had just seconds before.

"Bella, if you've changed your mind—" Carlisle began but she jerked in her seat.

"No," she said, holding her hand out. "Ah. No. No. I decided a long time ago. Give me a second here to adjust."

Edward sat down on one side and Carlisle on the other. Edward rubbed her knee. "Seriously, Bella. It's not like we're going to hold you to it if it's something you don't want to do."

"It's not that. Well, no. That's not entirely true." Bella grimaced. "You know how I feel about the idea of being pregnant. That hasn't changed." Her expression softened. "What's changed is that I have the perfect reason to do it. I told you before. You know me. You know I wouldn't have said a word to you if I hadn't considered it from every possible angle and come to terms with it myself. I don't expect pregnancy to be a cakewalk or a magical experience for me. But I know you. You're going to take care of me and spoil the hell out of me."

Carlisle looked to his husband and saw the cautious but blinding smile beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth. "Honey, we'd be so, so good to you," he said.

"I know." She gave them a shaky but genuine smile. "You're the most wonderful, caring people I know. Really, guys. If you're in, I'm in."

They both engulfed her in a hug. Bella giggled, threading her arms through the tangle of theirs and swaying with them. "Dammit. Look. I'm already all emotional," she said, sniffling a bit. "Gah. Come on. Let's talk logistics."

Their party relocated to the kitchen table to talk business.

The when was easier than it could have been. Bella was an executive—altogether a very busy woman. Pregnancy was an inconvenient and unpredictable condition, but they had the advantage of being able to plan around upcoming obligations.

"I'd really like to avoid being nauseated in December, so starting in November would be out." Bella said, flipping through her calendar on her phone. "I know you guys are probably eager to get going, but I have like five business trips in December. Long flights to Tokyo and Paris. That would just...no. Plus who wants to be queasy for Thanksgiving?" She blanched, but then she tilted her head. "But we could _start_ in December. Although, I guess that depends on what kind of procedure you're looking for. Well, I mean, I guess it depends on whether you're going to use my egg or not."

Carlisle started. He heard Edward suck in a sharp breath. "I...That's…" He reached over and took Edward's hand for support. "We didn't know that was an option."

She eyed them and ducked her head, shy. "Yeah. Sure it is."

"Bella," Edward said, his voice thick. "I mean, they would be yours. Biologically, I mean. They would… you would see them. I…"

She got up and plopped back down in the seat adjacent to Edward. She took his free hand, looking between him and Carlisle. "Look, I don't want kids. I don't have time for them. I don't have room for them. I don't desire motherhood at all." She swallowed hard, her glance becoming furtive. "People tell me all the time that I'll change my mind. Anything is possible, I guess, but I really don't think I will.

"I'm going to tell you something I haven't told you before." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The year after you got married, I got pregnant."

Carlisle felt the jolt that went through Edward's body. He was surprised as well. They were such good friends. It was unbelievable there were things Edward didn't know about Bella.

She gave them a small, rueful smile. "To cut to the chase, the situation resolved itself. I didn't tell anyone, because at the time I wasn't sure how to feel. I was sad, but mostly, I was relieved." She waved a hand. "That's not the point. The point is, when I figured out I was pregnant...that was a bad time for me. But, you know, I'm an adult. After I did the usual moping, hiding under the comforter, crying my eyes out thing, I tried to figure out what to do. This thing was going to grow into a baby, you know? And I didn't want it. There was no part of me that wanted it."

Again, she looked to them with a small smile. "I was out of my mind about it until it occurred to me that maybe you guys would want to adopt it. That idea...it was the only thing in that whole time that made me a little bit happy. I always knew you'd make great daddies. I even started to think of it as your baby. That was why I was sad when I miscarried—because it was yours, even though I'd never gotten the chance to tell you."

Carlisle wasn't sure what to think. Especially after Riley and Bree were taken, he played the what-if game frequently. What if they'd been able to keep the kids? Now, he was struck by the idea of how different their lives, their journey, could have been.

Intangible ideas.

"Obviously, the choice is yours," Bella said. "I'm a realistic person. I know I can't predict the future. But I'd like to think I know myself reasonably well. Regardless of whose egg you use, this baby is yours. One hundred percent. I love you both so much, even if I fell in love with the baby mid-way through the pregnancy, I would know it wasn't mine. I could never hurt you like that. I'll sign whatever you need me too—a contract. Whatever it takes to make my words legal, if it puts your mind to rest."

"Bella, that's so much," Edward said in a whisper.

Carlisle said nothing, but he reached out with his free hand, and she took it. They all formed a circle. Carlisle looked to Edward, and they had a brief conversation with their eyes. He didn't know what to think or say. He needed time to process this.

Edward got the message. He leaned in and kissed Bella's cheek. "We have to talk about it, okay? But it's an option. We'll leave it at that. We have time."

She nodded and let go of both their hands, sitting back. "Okay. So maybe we start trying in December. January at the latest."

Carlisle cleared his throat, grabbing onto this easier, more rational line of thought. "Have you considered the end of the pregnancy? Do you know what your schedule is like so far in advance? Is there anywhere you're going where you'd want to avoid being heavily pregnant?"

Bella snorted. "There are always going to be things I'd rather not be heavily pregnant for, but I understand what you mean. Travel arrangements and all that. I know I can't be jetsetting to London if my due date is around the corner." She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "It's never going to be perfect, but I'm less worried about the end of the pregnancy as far as inconveniences go. I'll have at least eleven months to plan my downtime."

December was two months away.

"Okay, so, this isn't any of my business, but I am curious," Bella said. "Do you know what you're going to do about which one of you, uh, supplies the biology?"

This Carlisle could answer with ease. "No question there. Biologically, it would be Edward's child. A childhood illness made me infertile."

Bella's eyes went wide. "Oh, Carlisle. I'm sorry."

"I keep telling him it's the kind of thing he needs to check," Edward said, glancing at Carlisle. "We work in the medical field. You know for a fact how many babies are born to 'infertile' men."

"And I'll tell you what I told Edward before," Carlisle said, ignoring his husband to look at Bella. "I never expected to be a biological father. I made my peace with that a long time ago. I never expected to be a father at all, but if it did happen for me, I always knew I would adopt." A lump rose to his throat, and he shook his head. "Sincerely. I'm completely fine with the idea. Riley and Bree were my children. They'll always be my children in my heart. This child will be mine. Biology is meaningless to that connection."

"I understand that," Bella said, smiling. "I mean, it was a win/win situation for this kid anyway. You two are so damn pretty."

They both laughed.

After that, it was a matter of details. Bella was open to about anything. They'd be allowed to be there for any appointments. They promised to try not to overstep their boundaries, accepting the fact she was a busy, active woman who fully intended to keep up her work-a-holicism as well as her active sex life.

"They make maternity leatherwear," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "I know. I checked."

She, in turn, had assured them that she would, of course, always be mindful of the life she carried. She took good care of herself, and she would take better care of the baby.

They both kissed and hugged her about a million times before she left. When the door closed behind her, they were left in the foyer. Carlisle watched as Edward put his hand flat against the door.

He'd done that the day they lost their children. He'd kicked his parents out and had stood still, just like this. The most horrible stillness, the loudest silence Carlisle had ever heard.

Carlisle went to him now and wrapped his arms around his waist. He didn't have to say anything. He thought it likely they were on the same page, both remembering.

They still ached for their children. Carlisle had been speaking from his heart when he told Bella parenthood had nothing to do with biology. They were his kids, a part of both of them always and forever. Carlisle knew without a doubt that he would think of them, long for them, worry for them every single day for the rest of his life. He knew there was a hole in his heart; a jagged, bleeding hole that would always bring back the maddening mantra. Were they safe? Were they loved? Were they happy?

Carlisle would never be okay with the fact he couldn't have the answers to those questions.

Edward turned in his arms, leaning his back against the door and hugging Carlisle close. "Am I horrible for wanting this so much? For being happy about this?" he whispered against Carlisle's ear. "We wouldn't have this unless we'd lost them."

"Other lives, sweetheart." Carlisle rocked him, comforting him though he felt exactly the same—a mixture of hope and guilt. "We can't live that life anymore. We can only live this one. I don't think remaining childless is a good way to honor the time we had with them."

Edward said nothing to that. They were both quiet, just holding each other, trying to come to terms with the happy turn their life had taken.

* * *

 **A/N: I've been toying with a gratuitous fantasy scene where the boys and Bella conceive their baby the old fashioned way. I've promised winterhorses I'd write it. For funsies. Not for "real" (it won't be an official part of the story in other words, rofl).**

 **As for my boys, look like they have some decisions to make. What do you think?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Woot. I got through all the updates I wanted to!**

* * *

Though Esme had been a constant fixture in his life throughout this difficult time, it had been a long while since they'd talked as they used to. It was one of the million things Carlisle felt guilty about. After all, when Edward had lost his Dom, Esme had lost her disciplinarian. Both relationships were important, treasured by both Carlisle and his partners.

Carlisle's relationship with Esme was different than his one with Edward, of course. His addressing her needs was a favor he did for Esme, an addendum to their relationship where it had been the core of his relationship with his husband.

Still, he wished things were different for so many reasons. He worried for Esme's well being, but he also missed the intimacy being post-session brought them. There was something wonderful about the aftermath of a session even without them being lovers. They were closer than most friends because of it, and the conversations they'd had were some of the most meaningful human interactions he'd ever had. It was hard to have barriers with someone when they'd already trusted you with their deepest, most difficult need.

Usually, it was Carlisle caring for her. That was what aftercare was about. This time, it was Esme who took care of him. She made the tea, set it in front of him, and caressed his hair a few times before she sat down, the gesture as tender as she was with her children. He needed so much care these days; it was driving him crazy.

But they weren't there to talk about that. Carlisle leaned forward, cradling his cup of tea in both his hands. He inhaled the rich scent as he searched for the right words.

"I don't think I can do it, Esme," he said with a sigh. "Is that terrible?"

She arched an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. "Why would it be terrible that you don't want Bella to be your baby's biological mother?"

"It's such a beautiful idea. I want to be able to handle it. You and Bella are part of our family, much more than our other friends. It would be a beautiful thing, when we sat down to explain biology to our baby, to be able to tell them they were part of Bella."

"But?"

Carlisle grimaced. "You know, I fell in love with my children the moment I set eyes on them. I knew the odds. I knew Victoria had a chance to get them back. It didn't matter. I saw them, and they were mine.

"That's one of the most maddening parts of this whole thing. I'm sure Victoria has love in her heart for those kids. I saw it. Yet she hurt them. Over and over she hurt them. With her words, and what she let happen to Riley. But she had rights. Because of simple biology, she had every right and every chance. Edward and I had no rights, no chance." The lump in Carlisle's throat rose to choke him, and he trailed off, staring into the green-tinged water of his tea. He took a shaky breath, calming himself.

"Bella says she won't fall in love with our baby, that she won't feel a connection to it. That might be true. But if she does feel a connection, if she does fall in love with our baby…" Carlisle swallowed hard. He felt like an asshole saying these words, and yet, they were exactly what he felt, what he feared. "I don't want her to have any biological ties. If we buy eggs from an anonymous donor, we own those eggs. We own those rights, in essence. It's a shitty way of looking at things, but it's true. No one will be able to take Edward's child away from him, and he'll never take our baby away from me. I know that. I trust that entirely. But I won't lose another child this way, Esme. Not even to joint or partial custody. Even with a contract, she'd have a chance. I don't want anyone else to have a chance. No one but Edward and me."

At the end of his tirade his shoulders slumped. "It's a horrible thing to say, isn't it?"

"Carlisle, even without suffering a loss like you have, the way we have our children is an extremely personal thing. What one parent can handle, what they need, differs per person. There's nothing wrong with that."

"It makes the procedure she has to go through more complicated. More invasive, and she'll need to take drugs."

Esme nodded slowly. "But she was prepared for that eventuality. She's already agreed to that if it's what you want."

"Yes." Carlisle smiled, feeling lighter now that he'd gotten that off his chest. "She's a better friend than I deserve."

"What she's doing for you is incredible, but you deserve the world, my dear."

Again Carlisle smiled. He sipped his tea, pondering his next words. "Can I admit something else?"

"To me? Anything."

"I'm glad I can't have biological children. Is that odd?"

Esme tilted her head, studying him. "It's strange, but that's not a bad thing. It's just an odd thing to be _glad_ about. You can be at peace with the idea, but glad?"

"I suppose I'm glad there can't be an argument about it—one less decision to make." He lifted his head to look at her. "I'm glad I'll know who fathered this child. It wasn't a necessity for me to love a child, but to be able to find Edward's features in them? Wondering if they'll have his eyes, that unruly hair."

"Oh, there's that smile I love," Esme said with a chuckle. "I remember that smile. That look that came over your face when you first told me about him. When I knew you were already in love with him and you refused to admit it."

Her expression turned more serious. "I'm only curious. I'm not trying to chastise you. I think I understand what you're saying. Going about things this way as opposed to adoption has perks. It's a wonderful thing to see the man you love in the face of your child. I can understand that. I love that my son has his father's nose and my daughter has his exact laugh. I love finding things like that about my children, but I also love seeing myself in them. Haven't you ever thought it might be nice to see yourself, your reflection in your children?"

Carlisle was quiet for a long moment. This very question had come up during his last therapy session, actually, in much the same context. He knew how it would sound. Alistair had already talked him in circles about it, so he didn't have to search for words to explain a simple truth. "I don't think I've ever loved myself that much."

The sorrow in her eyes was instant. Her voice was heavy with emotion when she spoke. "How many times have you had to teach me how to love myself? You won't let anyone say anything bad about themselves. Do you really have that little self-worth?" She sat up a little straighter, her expression turning almost to a glare. "Maybe you're the one who needs a hairbrush to your backside for not treating yourself well."

He ducked his head, smiling slightly at the sentiment. "That was the basis of my entire relationship with Eleazar, if you recall." He sighed. "And you're right. That was why I was never able to fully let go. I don't have it in me, Esme. To accept that kind of love and care. I know," he said, stopping her before she could protest. He gave a wry laugh. "What do you think my therapy sessions look like?"

At that, Esme smiled back. "As many years as I've spent in therapy, I don't have to guess. It's a very different kind of pain in the ass."

"Yes." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I almost always leave that place with a headache." He pressed his lips together, considering. "It's not that I didn't realize it before. Obviously, especially when my father and I parted ways, I understood what was going on in my head. I understood that I did blame myself for my mother's death, and how could anyone feel good about themselves with that kind of black mark on their soul?

"But I never felt like I had low self-esteem. I found value in everything else in my life. I'm a good surgeon. A good teacher." He huffed. "I was a good Dom. I am fully aware of how much I've given Edward. I…"

He struggled, trying to find the right words. He'd been trying to find the right words for weeks now. "I came across something someone else said, and it fit. It fit more than I realized. They said, 'You cannot love someone else until you love yourself. Bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you, oh god, I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like.' I think…" He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and tried again. "I think that's why I threw myself into my work when I was a younger man. Why I forgot to have a dream outside of that, forgot to want something else like a husband and a family. I gave myself to my patients and the hospital to forget my own lack of self-worth.

"I did work through some of my issues in my thirties. I found a lot of peace, but you know, I think, by then, I didn't know _how_ to love myself. I think all the things my father put in my head about how useless I was, how horrible...they've just always been a part of me. But Edward..."

Tears stung Carlisle's eyes, and he had to press his palm against his mouth to keep control of his emotions. "Edward put me on a pedestal. He is such an incredible man, and yet he was looking up at me. When he told me he loved me, that I was worthy of love, I had no choice but to believe him. He knows me, knows who I am, heart and soul, and he loves me. Because he loved me so well, I started to think maybe I could have these things I never dared let myself dream about. To have him. To have a family. To be selfish."

"It's not selfish to want to be happy, Carlisle," Esme said, her voice shaky.

"Yes. I know." Again, he swallowed hard. "But when Edward loved me so well, I _believed_ it."

"And when some stupid asshole called you a monster, confirming all the vile things your father drilled into you, you stopped believing," Esme said. "Which is why a part of you believes that Edward will come to his senses, and you'll lose him too."

Carlisle huffed. "See, I don't have to pay Alistair. I can come see you."

She sipped her tea, her expression momentarily far away. "And it took a crisis for all of this to come to a head."

"Story of my life in a way. Most of my patients wouldn't need my services if they practiced preventative care. I suppose I'm no different."

"No." Esme stood up and went to his side of the table. She took his face between her hands and tilted his head up to look her in her eyes. "If I could climb into that head of yours and mother the parts of you that desperately needed to be mothered, I would. But since I can't, I'm going to tell you this. I love you, Carlisle Cullen. You are the best friend I have ever had. My life, my beautiful life, would be dust in the wind if you hadn't been there for me. I love you. Your husband believes the sun rises and sets specifically for you. You are good enough, smart enough, and gosh-darn it, people like you."

Carlisle laughed. He slid his arms up around Esme and rested his head against her breast. She stroked the back of his hair, simply holding him.

"You know what the ironic thing is?" she asked after a moment. "If it were any one of us in your place, you would know exactly what to do. You're so good at that. Perfect compassion. Perfect selflessness—which is doubly ironic since you think it's selfish to want a husband and children."

"I know. I'm a perfect nitwit. I am working on it you know."

"I do know." She kissed the top of his head. "And Edward does too. I promise."

"I know."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward would never know what prompted it.

He'd come home to an empty house one Saturday, but that was expected. Carlisle was doing a guest lecture spot at one of the universities. Edward had intended to get some work done around the house but ended up falling in bed, curled up on his side for an impromptu nap.

He woke to the pleasant sensation of Carlisle's fingers skimming down his arms. He let his eyelids flutter open, and found his husband leaning over him. He smiled—a sleepy, happy smile—but before he could greet him, Carlisle kissed him.

With a contented sigh, Edward cupped the back of Carlisle's head, threading his fingers through his hair. This was no quick kiss. It was sweet at first, coaxing Edward further into wakefulness. He made a little whining noise, an approximation of a pout, resisting the temptation. He wanted to stay in this happy, dreamy head space. He wanted Carlisle to join him, to wrap him up in his arms and lull him back to sleep with soft kisses.

Carlisle had other ideas. He rested his hand at Edward's hip, flexing his fingers along his side. Edward woke a little more when Carlisle's tongue swept along the line of his lips. Edward opened automatically to him and found himself caught up in a slow, smoldering type of kiss. Carlisle's tongue teased his, and Edward found himself raising his head from his pillow to chase the kiss.

Edward whimpered and splayed his hand wide over Carlisle's chest, feeling him. Heat had begun to build in him, like he'd transitioned from sleepy dreams into steamy fantasy. Either way, his brain was muddled, but in this state, he was down to his base desires. His moan was wanton, and his hips thrust, seeking friction.

He got it and then some. Carlisle straddled him, not breaking his kiss as he did so. Edward widened his legs in reflex, needing him closer. His hands were at Carlisle's back, under his shirt. He needed more hot skin. He raised his hips.

Edward broke their kiss with a gasp. He was breathless, panting as he stared back at Carlisle. He shifted, bucking up against his husband again, just checking. "Oh," he said.

"Shhh," Carlisle said, ducking his head to kiss Edward again.

Edward laughed but kissed him back, enthusiasm mingling with his desire. "Are you afraid I'm going to scare it away?" he rumbled against his lips.

Carlisle scoffed. "Unlikely," he muttered, sounding somewhat disgruntled. "It's got medical assistance."

"Shhh," Edward said, cupping his cheek and kissing him as a distraction. He understood why Carlisle had been reluctant to use the little blue pill, and he hadn't pushed. But oh god, how he'd wanted to. He missed this so much.

As they kissed, Edward worked his hand between them. He cupped Carlisle between his legs, his touch tentative at first—all those months ago, Carlisle had pulled away, after all.

Not this time. This time he bucked into Edward's hand, hot and hard and eager. The tiny whine Carlisle made at the back of his throat drove Edward out of his mind. No. He was going to let go of worry.

He hitched his leg up over Carlisle's hip, tangling their legs, driving his husband closer. Just as quickly, he pulled back with a ragged moan. "Clothes," he said, pulling at Carlisle's shirt.

"What?" Carlisle caught his hand and held it against his chest.

Edward pulled his hand back and pushed forward, sitting up. "Your clothes. I need them off. I need…"

He looked up, looked into his husband's pretty eyes and fell in love all over again. He swallowed hard and kissed him sweetly. "I need you," he whispered.

"Baby," Carlisle murmured the word against the corner of his mouth. "I need you. I love you."

Edward turned his head to catch his kiss. His hands moved to Carlisle's shirt, and began to unbutton between kisses. They parted long enough for Carlisle to pull Edward's shirt up and off. They came together again. Carlisle shrugged his shoulders to help Edward take off his shirt. When he had pulled his arms from his sleeves, he took Edward's face between his hands and kissed him, coaxing his mouth open.

With a moan, Edward lay back, pulling Carlisle down with him. He reached between then, unbuttoning and pulling until he had Carlisle's glorious ass and, more importantly, his cock available. He stroked, marveling as though he were a virgin who'd never had his hands on a cock before. It was thick and hot in his hands, and for a moment, Edward had no idea what he wanted most. He wanted it in his mouth, to listen to Carlisle's moans and whines and pleas.

But no. No, that wasn't what he needed.

"I want you inside me," he said. "Please."

He felt Carlisle's cock jump in his hands at his words and saw him close his eyes, heard his groan. "Oh, hell."

In another minute, they were both nude. Carlisle's fingers, slick with lube, worked Edward's tight hole, making him ready as he leaned in to steal kiss, after kiss, after kiss.

"You know I won't last long," Carlisle said, his breath landing hot in Edward's mouth.

Edward laughed, running his hands down Carlisle's back and cupping his ass. He pecked his lips and pulled back to look in his eyes. "We have the rest of our lives."

Carlisle's smile was wide and adoring. He leaned in for a long, slow kiss.

"Take me," Edward said between tiny kisses.

"Not yet."

"Now. Please." He nipped at Carlisle's lower lip. "I'll be fine. I want you now."

Carlisle didn't have to be told again. He swallowed the space between them, lining up their bodies. He pushed inside Edward in a long, smooth stroke.

Edward let out a shuddering moan. There was a stretch and burn, but it the sweetest kind of ache.

"Are you okay, baby boy?"

"God, yes." Edward reached a shaky hand up to caress Carlisle's cheek. "So good. Come home."

Then it was Carlisle who shuddered. He drew back slightly and pushed again, burying himself deep right where he belonged.

They made love, holding hands as they moved together. Carlisle was right. It didn't last long, but it was long enough. Long enough for Edward to reach that perfect high. That perfect moment of being one with another, his other, his one person in the world. Pleasure rocked through him. The look in Carlisle's eyes, the feel of him inside him, the sound and smell, and taste of them together—he'd been right. Home. Peace.

Ecstasy.

Beautiful oblivion.

And when the stars faded and he came back to Earth, Carlisle was sprawled on top of him, his head on his shoulder. It was minutes before he raised his head off Edward's damp skin. Edward giggled.

"What is it, loon?" Carlisle asked, brushing his thumb over Edward's bottom lip.

"I was thinking that Carlisle Cullen's post-coital, blissed out face is a sight to see." Edward smiled, kissing the pad of Carlisle's thumb. "And I missed it. I missed you."

With a groan, Carlisle rolled to the side. Edward rolled with him, curling into his welcoming arms.

They lay like that for long minutes not saying word, just staring at one another, tracing each other's features with fingers that turned damp from kisses. Basking.

* * *

 **A/N: :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Short chapter for this Monday morning, but I think you'll like it.**

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Doctors were used to clinical. Clinically, Carlisle knew the exact mechanics of what was happening here. He knew every procedure, every tool used. Science had always been a comfort to him. He liked that he knew how each organ worked, what he could cut into and what he could stitch back together again. He'd seen the insides of a human body—blood, guts, and gore.

Procedure was what was running through his head as he and Edward walked up to the clinic. For something as profound as the creation of a human being, it was all very perfunctory. Edward had abstained from sex and release for two days to produce the most potent sample. Sperm and the donor eggs they'd purchased would be joined in a Petri dish where they would hopefully form embryos. The embryos would be transferred to Bella's uterus via catheter. They'd decided to implant three embryos at a time—the maximum any of them were comfortable with, should all embryos take.

It was somewhat surreal. Carlisle hadn't even thought of skipping this appointment. He was a dutiful and supportive husband, but what his role here was, he had no idea. The nurse was going through her spiel on cleanliness, not using any lubricant, and ejaculating directly into the sterile container.

Clinical.

Before Carlisle could ask Edward if he wanted him to wait outside, his husband took his hand, pulling him down the hallway after the nurse, thus answering that question. The room they were led to was, again, perfunctory. There was a semi-comfortable looking chair with a couple of outdated magazines. There was a less comfortable chair—a standard hospital chair—against the wall. A sink for clean up.

Edward went over and picked up the magazines gingerly, his nose wrinkled in distaste. He laughed. "Boobs," he said, deadpan. He held up the magazine for Carlisle to see. They were Playboys.

"Ah, heteronormative standards," Carlisle said with a small smile.

Edward put the stack down and took Carlisle's hand again. He set the specimen cup on the tiny rolling table, and walked Carlisle backward, pushing him gently down on the comfortable chair.

Hands at his husband's waist, Carlisle arched an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Edward straddled him, his expression soft as he ran his fingers through Carlisle's hair. Carlisle's heart skipped a beat, looking up into his husband's green eyes, seeing the overwhelming love he felt for Edward reflected there. Edward leaned in, brushing his lips in a soft kiss. "I'm making a baby with you," he murmured, the words vibrating against his mouth.

A thrill went down Carlisle's spine at the words. His very skin tingled. He returned Edward's kisses, ran his hands up and down his back.

Cupping his face in his hands, Edward deepened their kisses, making a quiet, contented noise that Carlisle tasted on his tongue. He began to move on Carlisle's lap, grinding his hips, seeking friction. It had been a while, but Carlisle was still familiar with Edward's moves. His husband was trying to rile him up.

Carlisle tensed. "Edward."

Reintroducing sex into their relationship was awkward at times. There was less romance when they couldn't be spontaneous, when one or both of them had to plan ahead. It sometimes frustrated Carlisle, which didn't help matters. As much as he loved being with his husband, it was often difficult to get in the mood when he was broken.

This was most certainly not planned.

Edward pulled back and put a finger to Carlisle's lips, silencing his protest. He tilted his head forward, resting their foreheads together so the tips of their noses brushed. "Listen to me. And look at me." As he spoke, he kept up a steady thrust, thrust, thrust up against Carlisle, his hardness growing more obvious with each movement. "Look at us. Have you seen us lately?"

"I see you," Carlisle said, spreading his hands wide over Edward's shoulder blades.

Edward shook his head and kissed him—a light, teasing kiss. "No. Look at _us_." He continued to move over Carlisle, his movements ever smooth and steady. A smile crept up his cheeks—wicked and sexy and begging for Carlisle to kiss it right off him. "I've seen me, and I know what you're talking about. The smile. The chin. Those eyes." He batted his eyelashes, and Carlisle laughed. "The eyebrows are a little ridiculous, but they work for me, right?"

"Brat," Carlisle said, but the word was tender. He did so much adore this man.

"And then there's you." Edward sighed—the sound at once wistful and satisfied. "I don't know if you can grasp how truly stunning you are. Breathtaking. Like literally. You step in a room, and you're so damn beautiful I can't breathe. It doesn't matter that I've seen you nearly every day for seven years. It takes me by surprise every time."

Carlisle was tongue-tied and mystified. It was exactly how he felt about Edward, but hearing the words said about him was almost painful. It was, at once, invigorating—it made his heart race and flushed his cheeks pink with pleasure—and confusing. His psyche wanted to reject the words as nonsensical.

Edward kissed him, lingering, stoking the fire that had begun to curl in Carlisle's gut. He pulled back but only enough so he could make his words audible against his skin. "But us. Baby, have you seen us?" He crossed his arms behind Carlisle's neck, scratching the pads of his fingers behind his ears. The touch sent the most delightful shivers down Carlisle's spine.

"You and I are awesome on our own." As Edward spoke, he pressed kiss after tiny kiss to Carlisle's skin, dotting his face. "But together? We're profound. We're starshine and magic and perfection."

Carlisle whimpered as Edward pressed a kiss to his neck, dragging his teeth along his skin. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, allowing his husband better access to him. Edward kissed his throat, the underside of his chin. He kissed along his jaw, up to his ear. He took one of Carlisle's hands and pressed it against his chest. "Do you _feel_ us? Hmm? Do you feel how you're part of me?" Edward drew Carlisle's captured hand down his chest, guiding it to rest on his crotch over the hard swell in his jeans. He leaned forward, taking Carlisle's earlobe between his teeth. "Do you feel what you do to me? Your touch? Only you."

In a heartbeat, something in Carlisle snapped. The tiny thrills of electricity coursing through his body short circuited his brain and shut off the voices in his head that were thinking too damn much. He gave in to feeling, _just_ feeling, because there were no words to explain how he felt about this man. Edward consumed him. His love and his complete devotion consumed him.

He surged forward, onto his feet, propelling them both the short distance forward to press Edward up against the wall. He took his face in his hands and kissed him. Hard. Deep. Long and hungry. Quickly, it wasn't enough. His hands roamed, squeezing, groping, and diving under and up Edward's shirt and back down. He thrust and rutted, needing…

Holy hell.

He was hard and ready and straining, desperate to be inside his love, his boy, his husband.

Come home, Edward had said that first time. Yes, that was exactly what he needed. He was so in love with this man. There was such rightness, such beauty in who they were together.

And they were going to make a baby.

Carlisle's kisses slowed. He skimmed the tip of his nose along Edward's cheek, breathing him in. He traced little circles around Edward's bellybutton, smiling at his sharp breath. He let his hands drop to rub over Edward's cloth-covered cock.

Even as he moved, Edward's hands roamed, too. He cupped Carlisle between his legs, making circular motions with the heel of his hand. Carlisle moaned.

They moved in tandem, pulling back from the wall long enough to yank down each other's pants in between tender but fervent kisses. Carlisle took Edward's cock in his hand, pressing him back against the wall, kissing him as he jerked him off. Edward returned the favor.

Their breaths quickened. Their eyes were open now and on each other. They'd bent their foreheads together, breathing in each other's air, catching each other's moans.

Feeling Edward was getting close, hearing it in the little whines he drowned against his mouth, Carlisle reached behind them, fumbling for the sterile container they'd left on the rolling table. He got a hold of the thing, and Edward stopped his ministrations to let Carlisle coax him over the edge of orgasm. He buried his head at Carlisle's neck, mouth wide. Carlisle gasped at the blunt sting of Edward's teeth sinking into his skin as he muffled his cry of ecstasy. He caught his breath. Hearing the sound of Edward's pleasure, feeling the way his body jerked with it, sent a jolt right through Carlisle's cock, adding to the ever increasing need to come.

By the time Carlisle had twisted the cap of the specimen cup firmly closed again and set the thing on the table, Edward had recovered enough. He sunk to his knees and enveloped Carlisle in his hot, wet mouth.

Carlisle let out a gasp. He leaned one hand against the wall, holding himself up, and wound his fingers into Edward's hair. It didn't take long. Carlisle pressed his lips tightly together to keep his cry of release safely in his mouth.

When Edward stood, Carlisle pulled him into his arms. He just wrapped him up in his embrace and swayed them both for a time.

Yes, he saw them. They were beautiful—something special. And yes, they were making this baby together. A child made of their union of souls, conceived, however untraditionally, in love. This was right and good. _They_ were right, and oh so good. Being part of something so perfect, Carlisle felt like a piece of the whole—likewise right and good.

They emerged from the little room a few minutes later holding hands and staring into each other's eyes as though they were strolling down a moonlit lane instead of a clinic hallway. Maybe it should have broken the mood to have to hand over the evidence of their lovemaking to the waiting technician. Maybe it should have been awkward. With the flush to their skin and the bounce to their step, it had to have been obvious to anyone there—all of them going about their regularly scheduled work day—what Carlisle and Edward had been up to in that room.

But Carlisle was still awash in the afterglow. He felt warm and happy—blissfully so. He only had eyes for Edward, and his husband stared back at him with a secretive smile and eyes that sparkled with contentment.

For the first time in a long time, for those few minutes at least, there was not a damn thing wrong in the whole universe.

* * *

 **A/N: So much love and thanks to my girls, Mina, Songster, JessyPT, MoH, Barburella, and Packy.**

 **How we doing, kids? Happy chappy, yes?**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Anon - Don't worry. Edward is a grown man, so his parents have absolutely no say in his life. Grandparents have zero rights when it comes to children. Remember, the one and only reason Carlisle and Edward's children were taken away so easily was because they had no rights to begin with. They were foster parents, having not yet adopted Riley and Bree. Foster children, while being cared for by foster parents, are actually in the custody of the agency. The foster agency had almost all the rights over the children (Victoria having still had small rights). They simply terminated their association with Edward and Carlisle.**

 **Biological and adoptive parents have many rights. Grandparents have none. Zip. Zero. Even if they were to raise a fuss, it's difficult to lose your rights to your children. It's difficult to even get them taken away from you. Injustices happen—they will happen in any system—but they more typically happen the other way: there's not enough proof to remove children from an abusive home and so they get hurt again.**

* * *

Carlisle was called in on an emergency the day their doctor implanted three embryos in Bella. He wasn't pleased, but Edward promised he would take care of her well enough for both of them.

It wasn't hard-and-fast science, but most doctors recommended the patient take it easy for five or so days after blastocyst transfer—that was, transfer of a five to seven day old embryo. Edward had taken the week off to be at Bella's beck and call so she could relax.

To that end, she was lying stretched across their couch, her laptop open on her flat belly, ordering her team around via phone. Edward shook his head fondly as he laid out the feast he'd brought home—smothered chimichangas with all the trimmings, rice, beans, fresh sliced avocados, and flan for dessert. He set out each item on the coffee table, watching with a smile as Bella's eyes got wider and her barked orders got fewer and further between.

"Uh huh. Listen, Angela, you're a lifesaver. I know I can trust you to get everything off the ground on time," Bella said, her words quicker than usual. "I have to run. Don't hesitate to call me, and remember to call Liam whenever it's early enough in Ireland. I think he gets up at six. Call him at six-twenty. Bye."

As she spoke the last, she was already setting her laptop to the side and straightening up. "Christ, Edward. You're a doctor. You should know that pregnant women get that belly from, you know, being pregnant. You don't have to try and create it."

He snickered and pulled the plate he'd been about to hand her toward him. "Maybe this is all for me. Maybe I'm planning to grow a belly with you."

"Hand it over, Cullen, or I'll hurt you."

Thirty minutes later, Bella was stretched out on the couch again, her hands folded over her belly, groaning. "I'm going to have a Mexican food baby for sure."

Edward settled down on the floor, his back against the couch. He twisted around to face her. "Would you feel uncomfortable if I wanted to talk to our embryo?"

Her lips twitched. "No." She reached out to run her fingers through his hair. "You might just be talking to a chimichanga though."

"Oh, I bet that'll talk back." Edward rested his head against her, splaying his hand wide over her belly.

For a few minutes, he spoke to his potential children, encouraging them to grab hold. "I think you'd like it out here," he told them. "Daddy and I will take such good care of you." He was surprised to find a lump welling in his throat, making his voice hoarse. "We'll never let anyone…"

"Hey," Bella said, her voice and touch gentle. "It's going to be okay."

Edward closed his stinging eyes, irritated with himself for the random burst of emotion. He swallowed the lump down, breathing through his nose as he calmed. "Sorry," he said. "It's kind of a weird day for all this to happen."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, stroking his fingers over her belly again. "It was nine months today that they took the kids." He sighed, pressing his palm over her. "Babies who were conceived that day are being born."

They were both quiet for a handful of moments while Edward put his thoughts in order. "It's strange to miss my kids, to still want them back in my arms, and now to love this baby, too. I have so much hope. I can't wait." He took her hand, squeezing it. "The idea we're going to get to be there from the second this kid opens his eyes is incredible. Hell, neither of us can wait to be there with you for every minute of this pregnancy."

"Well, hopefully not every minute," Bella said, teasing.

Edward grinned. "No, I'm sure there are a number of things you need privacy for." He waggled his eyebrows. "Speaking of which, Carlisle told me what you're doing for Esme. I can't get the image of you putting a woman who's almost twenty years older than you and three inches taller than you over your knee." His smile grew wider. "Are you still going to do it when you're big and pregnant?" He gestured out in front of him in a rounded shape.

She leaned back on the couch, her arms propped behind her head, utterly serene. "You're damn right. I told you, pregnancy isn't going to stop me from doing what I have to do." She considered a moment. "Though, at that point, it might be over the arm of the couch or something. I might have no lap to speak of."

"So how is it with Esme?" Edward asked, curious. "I mean, scenes that don't end in sex are a rarity."

"Actually, it was a pretty fulfilling experience—helping her. There's good money in a career as a dominatrix. It's a unique way of helping people, but it's one I can get behind, obviously." She nudged him with her knee. "Maybe you could be my second client."

It took her a few seconds to realize what she'd said. When she did, she sat up and put a hand on his shoulder. "Christ, Edward. I'm sorry. That was a serious foot-in-mouth disease moment." She slid onto the floor beside him, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm really sorry."

"I know." The words came out more shaky than he wanted. "Can I admit something to you?"

"Of course."

Edward licked his lips, staring forward. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. "It's been really hard to see Carlisle the way he's been since this all started. It's not just the lack of confidence, though that's been a challenge for me. He's always been the strong, calm center of my universe. But what gets me most is how afraid he is. He's afraid that all of this won't work out—with the baby, sure, but most of all that he'll lose me." Edward pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pausing to beat back the emotion that was trying to get the best of him. He looked over at Bella. "And it makes me scared, too."

"Scared of what?"

He looked down, clenching and unclenching his hands. "I learned really early on in our relationship how important honesty is. We've always been honest with each other. We don't keep secrets."

"But?"

"But…" He huffed. "He was right, and I'm terrified to talk to him about it."

She looked perplexed for a moment before her eyes went wide. "You mean, he was right that your needs would resurface?"

Edward banged his head lightly against the back of the couch. "I miss that part of my life terribly. I miss the safety I felt with him, the ability to let go of everything and just feel. I love my husband, Bella. But, I miss the hell out of my Dom."

Once he'd started, Edward found he didn't want to stop. "I'm such a selfish prick. Alistair explained to me how we needed to accept what had happened to us as a trauma. Getting sex back—the connection and the intimacy—that should be enough for me."

"But Carlisle was right about that part. It _is_ a need. You can't blame yourself for what you need, Edward. As long as you're not demanding it at Carlisle's cost, I can't see how that makes you a selfish prick." She studied him. "You've been feeling ready to return not only to sex but to the scene for a while now, haven't you?"

Edward grimaced. "It's not the same. I have a version of what he has. I don't like thinking about especially intense scenes." His cheeks heated. "The idea still arouses me, when a stray thought sneaks in, but it's almost like I'm ashamed I still find it such a turn on. And that pisses me the fuck off."

Bella nodded. "Well, of course. Yeah. That's the point of the kinds of relationships we have. You can trust him with that part of you—trust him both not to think less of you and to be the one who takes you to the edge. You used to be able to trust him with that, and now you feel you can't. Now, when you need reassurance the most, you can't get it."

Edward looked up, his expression fierce. "It's not his fault."

"No, it isn't, but that doesn't change what you feel and what you need." She paused, frowning. "That's heavy. The idea that you might have lost something that beautiful forever… That'd be devastating. Like a death."

Edward had never been less pleased to have his feelings vindicated. He closed his eyes and slumped, resting his head on hers. "What do I do?" he whispered.

It scared him that she couldn't answer right away. She sighed. "You need to be honest with him. I think you need to figure out if it's something he's willing to try to overcome at some point, or if it's something you're going to have to mourn. Either way, you need to find a solution you can both live with."

He'd known the answer before she said the words. All the same, the idea shook him so hard, he thought he was going to be sick to his stomach. He knew then he'd been hanging on to the idea that Carlisle would remember who he was—that he was a Dom, Edward's Dom. Surely something so intrinsic couldn't be erased.

He sighed, his heart aching. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be putting this on you now. I shouldn't make you worry when you might be carrying our baby."

Bella snorted and flashed him a grin. "I haven't worried even for a second."

"No?"

"Of course not. There isn't a single doubt in my mind you two are going to come out the other end of this stronger and more grotesquely in love than ever."

Edward smiled at that, some of the gloom lifting. "We are pretty gross, aren't we?"

"Nauseating." She wrinkled her nose. "Or that might be the ridiculously large chimichanga you fed me."

"Could be my baby, too."

"There is always that."

 _ **~0~**_

Garrett and Kate's wedding had been delayed twice, but it finally came on a bright but chilly day in late January.

Carlisle would never get tired of seeing his husband in a suit. He sat on the edge of their bed, watching Edward get ready through the open door of the bathroom. It was a strip show in reverse—one alluring look after another.

First, Edward emerged from the shower, a towel cinched at his waist. Droplets of water still gleamed on his back. Carlisle knew well the feel of his skin, hot and slick from the shower. He knew exactly how he would taste if he were to stride over there and lick along his spine. He knew how Edward would arch back, shivering with pleasure under his touch.

When he was done brushing his teeth, Edward let the towel drop. Carlisle had to press his tongue against the roof of his mouth to smother a moan. Edward was a work of art, chiseled by the masters—wonderful to look at, but even better to touch. How easy it would be to cup his hands to the curve of Edward's ass. To kiss his bare shoulders. To squeeze and nip and…

Edward pulled his underwear on and then his pants. It was then he caught Carlisle's gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His lips quirked up. "Careful, love. You're going to start drooling."

Though he knew he wasn't, Carlisle wiped a thumb over his mouth, watching as Edward turned to face him. A mischievous smile pulled at the corner of Edward's lips. "Do you want to help?"

Carlisle snorted. "If I 'help,' we'll definitely be late."

Something familiar flashed over Edward's face. For a moment, Carlisle was sure he saw his little boy brat. He could imagine him tempting Carlisle, teasing him until he put his foot down or, as happened more often than not, gave in to temptation. Memories came back to him. How many times had he given Edward a playful spanking—for making them late, the brat—before he bent him over the counter for a quick, deep fuck?

Carlisle shook his head hard, trying to cast off the simultaneous twist of arousal and the stomach-churning discomfort. He didn't want to start down either road of thought.

Luckily, Edward didn't try to press the issue. He turned around again, slipping his undershirt over his head. Carlisle let out a breath, remembering he was supposed to be getting dressed too. He buttoned his dress shirt, still watching his husband.

When he was dressed, Edward took Carlisle's tie from where it hung and went to sit beside him. This, too, was familiar. A warm feeling of contentment came over Carlisle as Edward tied his tie for him. The slight purse to his lips as he concentrated on the knot was adorable as always. Unable to help himself, Carlisle leaned in and kissed him sweetly.

Pulling out of the kiss a moment later, Edward smiled. He tugged Carlisle's tie tight and smoothed it down, spreading his palm wide over his chest.

Edward's smile fell and the look in his eyes changed to one of nervousness. "There's something I want to ask you."

Something twisted in Carlisle's stomach, responding to Edward's tone and the tightness around his eyes. "What is it?"

Edward didn't answer right away. He searched Carlisle, letting his hand drop to twine their fingers together. "There are going to be a lot of people at that party who are at Garrett's other parties," he said slowly.

The sense of unease increased twofold. Of course, there would be a lot of people from the scene at the wedding. "Yes," Carlisle said, indicating Edward should continue.

"I want to wear my old cuff." Edward paused a beat. "And I want you to wear your ring."

Carlisle tensed. The cuff Edward normally wore was the one Carlisle had given him when he proposed. It bore the Cullen family crest and was a symbol of every aspect of their relationship. These long months, the cuff had given Carlisle no small amount of anxiety. Early on, he'd considered buying Edward something else—something that didn't remind him of everything he couldn't be. But Edward loved his cuff. He hated being without it, and the fact he'd never taken it off—not even at the worst of times—had been a comfort.

But to wear the old cuff? The first cuff Carlisle had given Edward bore only his own initials: CC, subtly carved into an ornate emblem. It had been their version of a collar, neither of them liking collars at all. After they were engaged and before everything happened, Edward had only worn that cuff to play parties. It only symbolized the one aspect of their relationship that had now been completely destroyed.

"Hear me out," Edward said, squeezing Carlisle's hands in his. "It doesn't mean… Well, I'm not going to say it doesn't mean anything. You know that's not true, but I think maybe you can understand what I'm trying to say. Wearing them doesn't mean I'm expecting something."

"Then why?" Carlisle asked, hating how his voice came out clipped and tight.

Edward searched him again, and Carlisle could tell he was trying to figure out how much to say. He swallowed hard before he spoke. "Mainly, because I think some of the others might have questions. Garrett and Kate know enough not to think about it, and they'll probably be distracted. Some of the others we see more casually might notice."

It was a fair point, and one Carlisle hadn't considered. While Carlisle had, in the past, derived a great deal of pleasure in seeing Edward in his cuff, he rarely noticed similar jewelry on others. Still, most subs took great pride in their collars, eager to show the world to whom they belonged. Edward was right. Someone would notice if he didn't wear his matching ring. It was easily explainable, of course: It was a wedding, not a play party. But Carlisle could avoid having the now-uncomfortable subject coming up by wearing the ring.

Edward had said "mainly," which meant he had other reasons for wanting to wear his old cuff. Carlisle could well imagine what those reasons might be. He debated asking, but quickly dismissed the idea. He wanted to put off that conversation forever, but this was definitely not the right time.

Too much time passed, and Edward started to squirm. "Look, forget I mentioned it," he said quietly. "It probably won't matter at all. No one's going to say anything with so many vanilla people hanging out. Kate and Garrett's parents and all that. It was a stupid thing to—"

Carlisle caught Edward by the wrist before he could get up. He sighed and cupped his face in his hands. "You know I hate that word," he said.

He took Edward's hand and raised it, pressing his lips to the Cullen crest. This man had given him so much. It was for him, more than anything, he told himself. It was more likely a sub would notice and comment to him. For that, Carlisle could wear the ring. Silly to be so anxious about a symbol, after all. He raised his head to kiss Edward again. "Okay," he said. "I'll wear it."

The smile that brightened Edward's features was well worth Carlisle's trepidation. He got up and hurried to the dresser, pulling out both the ring and his cuff. He put the ring in Carlisle's hand as he sat down, and then he hesitated.

Customarily, it was Carlisle who put Edward's cuff back on him. He could tell that was what Edward wanted. He could also tell his husband wasn't about to press him.

As Edward made to unclasp the cuff he normally wore, Carlisle reached out and took the old one from him in an impulsive movement. It was ridiculous that his throat was tight and his hands trembled ever so slightly. It was ridiculous that the moment seemed to carry such a weight. It was just for appearance's sake, after all. The nature of their relationship was no one's business but theirs.

When he had snapped both buttons, Carlisle put his hand over the cuff, almost as though he couldn't bear to see it. Still, there was a strange emotion in him. An echo, perhaps. He'd been so happy, so satisfied, all the other times he'd done this. To call Edward his in every sense of the word…

He missed it. He did miss it so much. The echo of the feeling of completeness ached.

"Carlisle…"

"I'm okay," Carlisle said, moving to take Edward's hands in his. "Just being silly."

"It's not silly," Edward said, taking what had been Carlisle's line for so long. He cupped his hand around the back of Carlisle's neck, bringing him down for a kiss. It was a reassuring kind of kiss, full of all the love and devotion Carlisle knew Edward had for him. It was what he needed—the reminder his husband wasn't going anywhere, no matter how much had changed, not even when this symbol was hollow.

No, not hollow. Different—the good flecked with bad now—but not hollow. Not without meaning.

Carlisle wrapped his arms around his husband, lingering for a moment. "Come on," he said. "We really are going to be late."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward was so afraid he'd made the wrong choice. Carlisle had been quiet on the drive over, subdued. It was some comfort that he took Edward's hand when they got out of the car and didn't let him go as they mingled. Still, he was off, and Edward felt horrible for springing this on him today of all days.

But when the best man came to tell Garrett it was time to take their places, Carlisle chuckled at the look on their friend's face. It was a mixture of terror and joy. He looked to Edward and smiled. Edward flushed, smiling back, and knew they were both remembering their own wedding—the nerves and excitement that came from knowing they were about to pledge themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

When they took their seats, Carlisle wrapped his arm around Edward, pulling him close. "I think I remember every minute leading up to this part," he whispered in his ear. "I remember how antsy I was. The clock was moving too slowly, I swear."

Edward raised his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You weren't nervous?"

Carlisle smoothed his hair back, his gaze adoring. "I was everything all at once. Nervous but completely at peace at the same time. Eager to get to wear your mark on me always." He tapped his silver wedding band. He looked into Edward's eyes, his own shining with a sincere, deep emotion that sent a bolt through him. "I love you, Edward."

Edward didn't have time to reply before the ceremony started, but it didn't matter. They were bad guests—glancing at each other rather than at their friends. As Garrett and Kate took their vows, Carlisle took Edward's hand, rubbing his thumb over his wedding band as though echoing the sentiment.

They rarely left each other's side, hand in hand when they sat for dinner, joined in toasts, and mingled with the other guests. They danced, forgetting this night wasn't about them and what they shared. They danced with eyes that were only for each other, sharing sweet kisses, happy and content.

* * *

 **A/N: How are you, kids? Kris is sleepy. *puts head on desk* *snoozes***


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hello, ducks. How's your weekend?**

* * *

They weren't really expecting it to take the first time.

For their part, Carlisle and Edward had decided to try not to think about the "what if's". They knew the odds, and they weren't trying to put additional stress on their marriage. They were busy people with plenty of other things to deal with.

Midway through his morning, Carlisle got a text from Edward asking him to meet for lunch. His very busy morning had dwindled down to a manageable level, so Carlisle agreed.

His head was still wrapped up in the mystery of his latest patient. He was lost in his thoughts as he walked the block from the hospital to the little deli where he and Edward had eaten lunch so many times.

"Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss Edward hello. He sat down across from him.

"I got you coffee," Edward said, pushing a cup at him.

"Oh, good. Just what I needed." Carlisle took a sip and closed his eyes, savoring. Nothing better than coffee in Seattle. "You won't believe the day I've had so far."

He started to chat, pausing only to order his usual sandwich from the waiter. The man gave him an odd look, but Carlisle was too caught up in his story to care much about it.

Edward, he noticed, seemed a little distant. Normally, when they were discussing a case, he was involved. His insights had helped Carlisle solve many a tricky condition. Today, he contributed to the conversation, but his questions seemed perfunctory. Edward knew better than to think Carlisle wouldn't have checked for the basics.

Still, Carlisle indulged him. He answered his simple questions and wondered aloud about what he was going to do. He was mid-sentence when Edward broke.

" _Carlisle_ ," he said, his tone sharp.

Carlisle's head snapped up. He looked at his husband with arched eyebrows. "What is it?"

To his surprise, Edward laughed. He ran a hand over his eyes. "Jesus Christ. We've come here about five thousand times. Have you ever drunk coffee out of a mug like that?"

Confused, Carlisle looked down at the mug cradled in his hands. The deli used normal coffee mugs. This one was squatter but wider. "Oh," he said. "Did they change it?" He didn't understand why this mattered.

Edward covered his face with his hands, giggling in a weird, almost maniacal way.

That was when Carlisle saw that there were words at the bottom of the cup. Every thought went right out of his head.

There were exactly two words at the bottom of the cup: We're pregnant.

Again, Carlisle's head shot up. Edward was watching him through his fingers, his hands still on his face. "It took?" Carlisle blurted, astonished.

Edward lowered his hands slowly, revealing a wide grin. "Yeah. Bella called this morning. She wanted to tell us together, but I kind of guessed why she was calling."

"Wow." Carlisle stared at the words at the bottom of the mug. They didn't seem real. "Wow."

Edward put his hands, palm up, on the table. Wordlessly, Carlisle reached for him, taking his hands and squeezing tightly. A profound and yet cautious joy had begun to well in his chest. He laughed, the sound incredulous. He squeezed Edward's hand again, struck by a paralyzing fear. He knew better than most dads-to-be all the things that could go wrong in a pregnancy.

"I…" Carlisle laughed again. "I want to go find Bella and wrap her in bubblewrap."

Edward grinned. "Bella hung up on me earlier." He looked sheepish. "I kept asking her if she had enough water, something to eat. If she'd taken her vitamins. I actually told her she should take the day off. I had to call her back five times before she would pick up the phone again. She said she was going to change her number if I didn't calm the hell down."

"Calm down," Carlisle said, shaking his head. As though that were possible. He brought Edward's hands to his lips and pressed a long kiss to his knuckles. "This is happening."

"That's what it looks like," Edward said, his eyes shining.

 _ **~0~**_

"She's going to kill us."

Carlisle shot an amused glance at his husband. "You think it's overdone?"

"I know it's overdone. In fact, I think she specifically asked us not to do this," Edward said as they pulled into the driveway.

"She did not," Carlisle said, getting out of the car. "She told us not to interfere with her life. This is helping her with her life." He opened the trunk and surveyed their purchases. "Everyone should have proper support. Most pregnant women have body aches. We're really doing her a favor. It's the least we can do when—"

Someone clearing her throat made them pause. Carlisle looked over his shoulder. Shock went down his spine. He dropped the bag in his hand, slammed the trunk shut and turned, keeping Edward behind him with a protective stance. It was instinctual but unnecessary.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Edward snarled at his mother.

Her eyebrows furrowed, her expression going from uncertain to irritated and back again. She swallowed hard, visibly bracing herself. "You haven't answered my calls in almost a year, " she said, looking only at her son.

Carlisle scoffed, incredulous. Edward stepped out from behind him, standing tall as he faced his mother. "Was there something about me never wanting to see you again that escaped you? You're not welcome here."

"Junior—"

"Don't." Edward snapped. He twined his fingers through Carlisle's and tugged. "Come on."

"Junior, I understand that you're angry. I—"

"You were asked to leave," Carlisle said, his voice cold as ice. "This is private property."

Elizabeth turned a withering stare on Carlisle. "I'm talking to my son. You—"

"Oh, no." Edward stepped between them, holding his hand palm out at his mother. "You don't get to talk to him. You don't even get to look at him."

Even Carlisle was taken aback by the ferocity of Edward's words. "You don't listen, so I know you can't even begin to comprehend how many ways you destroyed my family. If you think I'm going to let you hurt my husband again, you're out of your goddamn mind."

"I don't understand you," Elizabeth said, looking frustrated and flustered. She dropped her tone, obviously self-conscious about the fact they could be easily overheard. "You were such a smart boy, Junior, and then he happened." She sneered the word, glaring once at Carlisle before looking to her son. "From the very beginning, he's had you doing things that aren't you. Getting involved with a superior? I can't imagine what had to have happened to force you to leave that hospital. You were happy there. It was a good place for you, a good place for your career."

"Jesus Christ," Edward muttered under his breath. "What the hell do you think happened? You think they caught us screwing in the operating room with a patient knocked out nearby?" He shook his head. "I married him, Mother. That's why I left the fucking hospital. Because it was a conflict of interest, and I was in love."

"You never wanted to be married. How often did you say it? You never wanted to be tied down, and you went from declaring that adamantly to planning an extravagant wedding in less than a year. You have never been yourself since you've been with him."

"Yeah, imagine that," Edward said, his tone bitter now. "I didn't want to get married when all I had as an example was you and Dad. You make marriage look cold and lonely. Carlisle is warm. All he does is give."

"Oh, yes. I know exactly what he gives you."

"You don't know a damn thing. You liked Benjamin, right? You remember him. He gave me the same fucking thing. And after Benjamin, I sought it out from strangers. I let them tie me up, and—"

"Junior!" Elizabeth had clapped her hands over her ears, her expression distressed.

Edward scoffed. "Yeah, big surprise. That's exactly what you do. You don't listen, because heaven forbid you have to accept anything other than your own cold, singular view of the world. You never knew who I was. You didn't want to see me, especially when I started making decisions for my own life you didn't agree with. I have a happy, warm marriage. My husband is a selfless, wonderful man. But you preferred to make up your filthy fucking lies. You preferred your version of things so much you destroyed our lives, and the lives of two children you were supposed to love. You took my kids from me, Mother." By the end, Edward was speaking through clenched teeth, his voice heavy with emotion. Carlisle kept a hand on his arm, his own eyes stinging with furious tears.

"Get out," Carlisle said simply, his voice cold.

Again, Elizabeth's eyes—shining now with tears of her own—looked at him. This time, there was much less venom in her stare and much more uncertainty. She took a shuddering breath and looked back to Edward. "I...I...I didn't know what would happen. Of course I didn't know. I didn't know it was a possibility they would take the children. I thought you could leave with the children. I thought they would help you do that—see that you shouldn't have children around a—"

Carlisle felt Edward tense. The look on his face must have been murderous, because Elizabeth cut herself off. She looked to her shoes. "It wasn't what I intended."

"I don't give a good goddamn. I was serious when I said I never wanted to see you again, and I don't miss you. Goodbye, Elizabeth."

Taking that as a cue, Carlisle put an arm around Edward, turning him toward the house. He was eager to get away from this woman. His mind was chaos held at bay only because he had the overwhelming urge to protect his husband.

Before they could get very far, Elizabeth called out to Edward again. They weren't going to stop, except she said, "Why do you have these books?"

Carlisle was chilled to the marrow of his bones. He remembered then which bag he'd dropped. The one filled with books about babies and fathers guides to pregnancy.

They could still lie. It was—

"We're going to have a baby," Edward said. "One you'll never see and one you can't take from us. A child with your blood."

"Your biological child?"

Edward huffed. "Yeah, I thought that would matter to you."

"No," Elizabeth said quickly. "It's just...how?"

"Make up your own story. It's what you're going to do anyway. The truth is none of your business. You don't get to cry about the choice you made," he echoed the words his father had flung at him so many months earlier.

"Edward. I'm your mother." Her voice shook with tears, her face awash in agony.

"Yeah. And I was those kids' father. I get to live the rest of my life wondering if they're okay. You've hurt everyone I've ever loved more than my own life, and I will never forgive you. Not ever. This is the only kind of justice I'll get for what you did to my children, my husband, and me. A mother is supposed to support her child through all his trials, not be the cause of them." He wrapped his arm around Carlisle's waist and turned again toward the house. "If you come here again, I'm calling the cops. Stay away from my family."

With that, they walked together toward the house, ignoring Elizabeth's miserable tears.

 _ **~0~**_

Carlisle was having trouble getting the chaos in his mind to quiet long enough to string together a rational thought. He was sitting at the kitchen table, only half listening as Edward spoke to Bella on the phone. He was asking her to come over not tonight but the next night. They needed a minute to regroup tonight.

Regroup. That was an interesting word for it, but not inappropriate. It implied they were scattered. Scattered was an adequate word as any for what Carlisle was feeling. Though he tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous and dramatic, he couldn't help but feel shaken.

Carlisle started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even realized the house had gone quiet. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself as Edward squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

After another moment, Edward wrapped his arms around Carlisle's chest and rested his cheek on his head. He splayed one hand directly over Carlisle's heart. "Can you talk to me? Tell me where you are? I don't want to assume," he said, his voice gentle and calm.

Carlisle squeezed his eyes tighter shut. For a moment, he allowed himself to wallow in guilt and self-loathing. Edward had just rejected his mother again. It should have been him comforting Edward, not the other way around.

This was another thing he'd been working on with Alistair. As frustrating as it was, as much as he wanted to believe he should be able to simply shake off all this _wrongness_ , it simply wasn't going to happen. The trauma he'd been through had infected him as surely as a cancer, and anyone could understand cancer couldn't be willed away.

He took a deep breath, put his hand over Edward's, and tried to find his words. "When you told me about the baby this afternoon, I was so happy. So happy." He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. "But I was scared too. Like this...prickling sensation—a general anxiety. There's a thought in the back of my mind that I'm crazy for believing I can have any of this. The baby. You."

Edward kissed the side of his head. "And then my mother showed up. Today. Why the hell did it have to be today? Today should have been nothing but happy. We're going to be Daddies again. But my parents destroyed that once."

"Yes," Carlisle said, relieved and heartbroken that Edward understood. "I can't stop thinking about rules and technicalities. Is there something we've missed? If she lashes out, what happens this time?" He shuddered and leaned his head back against Edward's chest not voicing his last fear.

What if Edward listened to them—his parents—and followed them home one day? Oh, he knew in his heart of hearts it wasn't going to happen. The one thing he'd never doubted in this whole ordeal was Edward's unflagging love for him. Irrational though it might have been, he was still afraid something might happen. Maybe Edward would come to the conclusion his parents would never let him rest, never let him have a happy life, as long as he was with Carlisle.

Edward moved around to stand in front of Carlisle. He dropped to his knees, taking Carlisle's hands, looking up into his eyes. "There's really nothing they can do," he said firmly.

"I know," Carlisle said quietly. "Most of me even believes your mother when she says she didn't intend to get the kids taken away from us. It's just…"

"We've been putting our lives back together," Edward said. "I get it. I really do. Everything still feels so fragile. Everything." He huffed. "It's like letting a bull around a house of cards."

Edward sighed and rested his head on Carlisle's lap. Carlisle felt a pang, a deep yearning. How often he and Edward had been in this position for much different reasons. Carlisle ran his fingers through Edward's hair with love and affection. He was feeling slightly more centered, and he could still help his husband.

"You know, in all this, I never have asked you how you feel about your parents," Carlisle said.

Edward grunted. "I think that whole thing outside should have made it easy to see how I feel about my parents."

"What I mean is, regardless of what they've done, they're still your parents. It would be understandable if you feel conflicted. You love them."

It was a long few seconds before Edward spoke. "I hate them," he said in a whisper. "Genuinely, I hate them. When I saw her today…" He swallowed audibly. "Yeah, sometimes I start to wonder if there was any situation in which I could forgive them. If there was anything they could do that would make me consider them family again. I don't want to be an orphan. I know what it does to you sometimes when you think about your father. And maybe, if they'd just hurt me…" Edward shook his head. "But then I hear Riley screaming, begging us not to let this happen. And I hear Bree crying, because she didn't understand. And I think of what it's done to you."

Edward wrapped his arms around Carlisle's waist and squeezed hard. "There's too much destruction. Thinking about them, about kicking them out of my life, doesn't feel good. It never will, but it's preferable to thinking about letting them back in my life, letting them anywhere near you or the baby."

Carlisle slid off the kitchen chair, onto his knees in front of Edward. He wrapped him tightly in his arms, rocking with him. "We're going to have a baby," he whispered, because despite Elizabeth's visit, that was still amazing.

"Yeah," Edward said with a small laugh. "Maybe three."

"Christ. Three babies. Edward, what would we do with three of them at once?"

Edward laughed more genuinely this time. He pulled back, taking Carlisle's face in his hands, looking him in the eyes. He smiled. "We're going to be better than our parents. I think that's all that matters."

Again, Carlisle wrapped his arms around him. "It's real. They're real," he said, more to himself than anything else.

"This is the start of something beautiful. It sucks that our moment got ruined, but that's going to happen sometimes, right? A lot of incredible with a dash of awful."

Carlisle got to his feet, pulling Edward up with him. He kissed him soundly, letting a fragile peace settle over him. It didn't overshadow the heaviness in his heart, but it did let him feel the joy. As long as he had his husband in his arms, his life could never be awful.

* * *

 **A/N: My docs were awash with pitchforks, rofl. My thanks to Packy, Mina, songster, MoH, and Barburella.**

 **So Momma Masen is beginning to feel some regret for what she did. Hmm.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:Good evening, duckies! I literally just got a message about being nom'ed for the non-canon awards. Can I assume it was one of you Trouble readers? MWAH. Love you, ducks.**

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"You look pensive, Edward." Alistair stared at him with piercing blue eyes. Sonova bitch was way too good at reading expressions. "Do you have something specific to talk about?"

Edward looked up at the therapist, considering the question. Alistair smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. Easy for him to say.

Beside him, Carlisle reached out and took his hand, twining their fingers together. His expression, too, was encouraging, but Edward could also read nervousness and fear there. He reached out, extending his free hand palm up. Getting the idea, Carlisle twisted in his seat so they were looking only at each other for a moment, their hands joined. Edward held them there for a few seconds, needing to establish his absolute love for his husband. This conversation needed to happen, but it wasn't about a deal-breaker.

Edward didn't think there was such a thing as a deal-breaker in his relationship with Carlisle.

With a sigh, he let go of one hand and turned to face the doctor. "This feels like navigating a minefield."

"What does?" Alistair asked.

"This. Therapy." He swallowed hard. "There's so much going on all at once. I feel like the baby should be the most important thing. Or my mother." The words tasted bitter in his mouth. "I think it took us a few days to recover from her visit."

Carlisle scoffed. "You're being generous. I think it took _me_ a few days to recover."

Edward was quiet for a moment. He hadn't wanted to phrase it that way. "Seeing her again, everything she said and the fact she still can't listen, it did affect me. I'm so fucking angry."

It was the truth, but he knew what Carlisle meant. For Edward, the episode brought on a rash of fresh anger. His hate and his guilt over hating his parents as much as he did would likely be part of him for the rest of his life. Carlisle had suffered a brief but debilitating backslide after the visit. His mood turned inward and gloomy. His mental distance put a damper on their intimacy. It took a few days to shake off the spectre of those old wounds made fresh again.

"But, life never does us the courtesy of letting us deal with one thing at a time," Alistair said, directing the flow of the conversation. "If I'm understanding you correctly, Edward, you have a concern you'd like to talk about, but you don't know if this is the time."

Edward nodded. "Yes."

"Well, let's see. Babies and preparing for parenthood are of tremendous concern and importance of course." The corner of Alistair's mouth turned up. "However, there's only so much you can do at this particular point. You've both acknowledged your fears. After such a traumatic loss, it's only natural to be anxious. You're dealing with that, though.

"Seeing your mother again brings up any number of issues." Alistair tilted his head, considering Edward. "If you wanted to schedule an individual session, that might help. How you're dealing with her reappearance on a personal level is just the kind of situation therapy is good for. However, this particular session is about you as a couple." He nodded to them both. "On that subject, from what you've both said, you're doing well supporting each other. If anything, it sounds as though dealing with the aftermath of her visit has only reaffirmed your closeness."

Edward looked to Carlisle, and they smiled at each other. "I hate that we had to see her again," Edward said. He furrowed his brow. "I hate that seeing her reminded you of all the vile things they said about you. But it was good to be able to defend you to her. It was good to say all the things I've wanted to say for a year now."

"You made it sound like she was the monster torturing us," Carlisle said. "That was good for me to see, I think."

Alistair nodded and looked to Edward again. "The point of therapy isn't curing. It's coping. Part of coping is knowing what the playing field looks like. Reality will always get the better of us. There's no sense in denying something exists or depending on a thought, a feeling to go away of its own volition. Let's see what we're dealing with here."

"Okay." Edward took a deep breath. "It's what I was talking about before, I think. Everything is so complicated. I spend so much of my time overthinking everything. Nothing is simple."

Edward took another steadying breath and twisted in his seat to face Carlisle again. He took his one hand in both of his. "The truth is, I've been missing the relief of subspace for a while now."

As he expected, some of the color drained from Carlisle's face. His hand would have fallen from Edward's, but he kept a tight grip as he stumbled on. "I miss being able to put everything else in my life aside and come to this place that's only you and me. Everything I feel in scene, all the emotions, are so singular, clear, and intense. I exist to please you and take pleasure from you. It's my one goal, the only thing I have to think about. Your pride in me, when you call me a good boy and I know I've pleased you, is, for that time, the greatest happiness in my life.

"Even things that should be negative are better. In subspace, your disappointment in me is devastating, but it's this redeemable, pure devastation, you know? If only all life was as simple as that. I displease you. I'm punished. I'm forgiven completely, and showered with love and affection." He raised a hand to stroke his thumb over Carlisle's cheek, wishing like hell he could erase the tightness at the corner of his eyes. "Cherished. I miss it." He swallowed hard, remembering Bella's advice. "That's where I am. I think I need to hear where you are."

Carlisle held his gaze for a moment more before he ducked his head. Edward could see his breath had quickened, and his stomach twisted. The last thing he wanted to do was cause his husband anymore pain or distress.

Alistair's voice was gentle as he spoke again. "If I'm reading this right, I believe the question Edward's asking you to answer now is not whether or not you can be a Dom again. Let's put that question from our minds for the moment. What Edward is asking for is a status check. Can you think about the scene? Talk about it? Or does the very idea make you too uncomfortable?"

Edward pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Carlisle's palm was damp in his. The silence in the room stretched on, and Carlisle didn't look up. His lips worked soundlessly, as though he was biting the inside and soothing it.

Finally, just as Edward thought he might go insane, Carlisle raised his head. "I miss it, too," he said, his voice soft. "I do miss the closeness." A small, sad smile touched the corner of his mouth. "My beautiful, brilliant boy. You have no idea what a pleasure and a privilege it was to be the one who got to see you like that—so blissed out and deep in subspace. I miss the look on your face after an intense scene. I miss being the one you trusted with everything. I miss the lightness—everything in the world faded away except for you—and the intensity." He swallowed, hesitating only a moment before he continued. "And it still makes me so guilty, but remembering holding you after a punishment, that you felt safe and secure enough to cry in my arms...that's special for me, because I know what that means for you, how far you've come. I miss being the one you can trust like that."

"Okay, good. Let me tell you what I'm hearing," Alistair said, catching their attention. "Or rather, what I'm not hearing. I'm not hearing repulsion, disgust, or distress at the thought of the scene."

Carlisle took a shuddering breath. "I...want to believe we can have that again. I'm scared." He looked at Edward. "You know that, of course. I'm scared of what it means for us, but I'm also scared what it means for me. If I tried and failed...to know for sure that part of me is gone and lost forever…" He shook his head.

"Fear is something we can deal with," Alistair said. "As far as irrevocably broken pieces go, fear isn't a bad thing. There are coping mechanisms and techniques to get past fear." He got to his feet and went around to his desk, speaking as he rummaged. "I know it's not something one wants to hear in regards to your sex life, but it's not so bad in practice. Ah. Here it is."

He straightened up brandishing a long feather. Edward and Carlisle exchanged bemused glances. "Frightening, isn't it?" Alistair said, sitting down again. He turned the feather from side to side so they could get a better view. "A true implement of torture used by only the most devious of minds."

Setting it down on the table beside him, he smiled at the two of them. "It's true, of course, that scenes can get extreme. It's true that we leave marks on each other, inflict pain and discomfort. Those things can be difficult to explain or rationalize, even to yourself. Yet, therein lies the beauty. The amount of responsibility and trust it takes to be a Dom, the absolute compassion, self-awareness, and concentration on your partner is the antithesis of monstrous.

"In that, let us not forget BDSM is a path. Once upon a time, Edward put his trust in you to take him to the edge of his limits, of his desires. But you didn't jump straight there, right? When you first began your journey together, you didn't land on the edge that very night."

"No," Edward and Carlisle agreed together.

"No. And I'd wager that as you grew and discovered together, your edge was redefined. You pushed further in some areas, pulled back in others."

"Yes," Edward said.

Alistair nodded. He picked up the feather again. "Our scene isn't all about whips and chains. Even the most vanilla couples introduce some form of kink into their sex life now and again. My advice to you would be simply this: play.

"In the wake of sexual dysfunction, sex can become something to be conquered. A chore. A job. It still doesn't come as easily as it did before—not as unencumbered."

"It's not bad," Carlisle said. "Not by a long shot."

"No. But not as simple as before."

"No," Carlisle said, ducking his head.

Edward squeezed his hand again. He knew exactly what the doctor was getting at. There was always a moment of tension, both of them wondering if everything would work. And Carlisle wasn't as free as he had been before. There were days he struggled to express his feelings for Edward physically, days when he was ever so slightly cold and distant. It was much better than it had been, but still, it existed.

"All of which is perfectly normal," Alistair reiterated. "Remember what we've been talking about—neither of you are the people you were before you suffered this trauma. Your edges, your limits, have changed. Now is a good time to remember that there's a lot of soft stuff in the scene too. Sensory _play_ can be powerful in its own right." He poked the feather in the air. "This motherfucker right here has left me begging and pleading and straining against fluffy pink handcuffs more than once in my life."

They laughed, glancing at each other almost shyly now. Alistair looked satisfied. "When you're ready, don't try to slip into scene. Don't try to take on the roles of Dom and sub. Just play and see where that takes you."

"I have a question," Edward said.

"Yes?" Alistair asked.

"Do we have to play with pink furry handcuffs?" He turned to Carlisle. "Because I have to tell you, I'm not going to be the one who walks into the sex shop for that." He widened his eyes in mock horror. "Someone will think I'm gay."

Carlisle fought it hard. Edward saw the way he tried to force the curve of his mouth down. He waggled his eyebrows helpfully, and Carlisle broke, laughing out loud.

"I have another question," Edward said, addressing his husband this time. He put on the most innocent expression he could muster. "When Alistair suggested we try dating, you took me to San Francisco. If we're supposed to try playing, where are we going for that?"

Shaking his head, Carlisle threw an arm around Edward's neck. He pulled him in and kissed his forehead. "Brat," he whispered in his ear.

 _ **~0~**_

"I'm going to kill you both if you don't stop that."

Edward and Carlisle sat on either side of Bella. Edward did his best to shake off his nervousness to give her a steady smile. "Stop what?" He asked.

She fixed him with a cool stare and didn't say a word. Instead, she reached out and pressed each of her hands over Edward and Carlisle's bouncing knees, stilling them. "The tap, tap, tap is going to drive me crazy."

Giving Edward a rueful look over Bella's head, Carlisle rubbed her back. She'd been moody the last couple of weeks. There wasn't much she hated more than throwing up, which she'd been doing regularly. "Sorry," Edward said, kissing the side of her hair.

She huffed and laid her head on his shoulder. "The feeling-like-crap part doesn't last much longer, right?"

"Every pregnancy is different. Some—"

"Hey." She poked Edward in the chest. "Don't give me the doctor answer. Give me the dad answer. I've seen all the books you got. Dad's guides to pregnancy and all that. You should know what I want to hear."

Carlisle chuckled and took over. "It's a first trimester thing," he said, winking at Edward. "You'll start to feel better, have more energy, soon."

Bella pointed at him. "I like that one. He gets to hold my hand."

Before Edward could argue his case, the door to the back came open. "Bella Swan?"

It took some shuffling—there being two daddies involved, neither of whom were Bella's significant other—but soon, they were all situated in the room with the ultrasound machine. Carlisle sat in the seat beside Bella, holding her hand as she'd promised. Edward stood beside Carlisle, trying not to get in the way. The urge to doctor, even though this wasn't his field, was a strong one. Bella had made them both promise they were daddies not doctors.

Surprisingly, it was almost easy to forget about the technical aspect of what was going on. As soon as the technician pressed the wand to Bella's skin, Edward's eyes were riveted on the screen.

Then again, they couldn't turn off the fact they were doctors. They knew exactly what they were looking at as the technician moved the wand over Bella's skin.

"Oh, hell," Carlisle said, his eyes wide.

Edward pressed his palm to his mouth, hiding whatever the hell his mouth was doing. Was he grinning? Was his mouth open in a silent scream? Who the hell knew? He couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"What? What is it?" Bella asked, looking between the three of them. "Someone let the non-doctor in on whatever the hell is going on."

The technician looked amused. "It's all you, Dr. Dads. You know I can't say anything."

Carlisle swallowed hard and reached out with his free hand out to tap the screen. "One. Two." He swallowed again. "Three."

"Oh," Bella said, sounding stunned. "Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck." She put a hand over her eyes and groaned. "Are you kidding?"

Edward counted for at least the twenty-second time. "Nope. He's not kidding." He took a deep breath, grasping Carlisle's arm because he thought, for a heartbeat, that he might faint. "Three amniotic sacs. All three embryos took."

Hiding behind her hands Bella groaned again. "I'm going to kill both of you," she grumbled.

Carlisle turned to Edward, his eyes shining. "Wow," he mouthed.

Bella peeked at them. She seemed as overwhelmed, but she smiled. "Congratulations, you fucking bastards. I hope you're satisfied. This is not _Friends_ , you jack asses. This is real life. You're supposed to have one baby at a time. For fuck's sake."

It was Carlisle who started laughing. It was a maniacal kind of sound—high-pitched and giddy. When he heard it, Edward tittered. They looked at each other, blown away and ecstatic and maybe freaking out just a little bit.

"Freggin lunatics," Bella said with affection. "Don't mind them," she said to the technician. "Suckers just figured out they're going to have to raise three babies at once while I get to sleep at night. So there." She stuck her tongue out. "But I'm going to get huge. Fuuuuck."

That only set Edward and Carlisle off again. Carlisle had bent at the waist, his arms wrapped around his stomach because laughing that hard hurt.

"Oh, we're in trouble," Edward said, hugging his husband close to him. "We're in so much trouble."

* * *

 **A/N: Bloops!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hello, lovelies. Oh, my. If only you could see my docs for this chapter. Not so much safe for work, which is why I had to wait to upload it until I got out of work. LOL!**

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It was the small hours of the morning when Edward climbed into bed. Carlisle stirred, inhaling deeply. Edward's skin smelled clean, his hair, when Carlisle nuzzled the back of his head, was damp from a shower. He'd washed the stink of a long, hard shift away.

Edward groaned as Carlisle's arms came around him. "Sleepy," he mumbled, but it wasn't a real protest. He wiggled his ass a bit, urging Carlisle on.

Carlisle kissed a line across his shoulders. "This won't take long, and it won't require much participation from you." He nibbled his ear. "I won't be insulted if you need to sleep."

Edward snorted and then moaned as Carlisle's wandering fingers slipped beneath the pajama pants he had on. He pressed his ass back against Carlisle's crotch.

"Oh, you decided to be an active participant." Carlisle rubbed his hand over Edward's cock, stroking him and reaching to brush his balls with the tips of his fingers. "That's good. I like you better when you're more than semi-conscious."

Edward moaned. "I thought...ohhh." He swallowed hard. "I always thought you found me kind of mouthy."

Carlisle cupped his cheek, tilting his head to catch his lips. "I never did have a problem finding uses for your mouth," he murmured between kisses.

They kissed for a time—long, slow kisses with their tongues moving against each other, tiny moans vibrating against their lips. Carlisle traced the lines of Edward's cock with his fingertips, brushing the underside of his tip until Edward bucked against his hand.

Then, without warning, Carlisle shoved Edward forward onto his belly, pinning him beneath his body. Carlisle couldn't help but smile at his husband's startled gasp. Truth be told, Carlisle had startled himself. But for the first time in a long time, he'd been too overcome to think before he acted.

This man, this beautiful man, was his. Edward consumed his every sense. The soft feel of his skin over the taut muscles of his back. The scent of him—clean and male. The taste of his kiss. The sight of him beneath him—his head turned on the pillow, his lips curved up and parted, his hair becoming more disheveled under Carlisle's fingers. The sounds of his surprise and pleasure. All of it drove thought and worry right out of Carlisle's head. He was feral with desire—a ferocity that made him powerful.

He took Edward's right hand and guided it up to press his palm against the headboard. "You keep this right here." He took Edward's left hand and did the same. "And this right here, you understand?"

Edward gasped and whimpered. "Y-yes."

Carlisle leaned down to growl low in Edward's ear. "You just hold on tight. All right?"

"Yes." Edward sounded breathless—so eager.

Dipping his head to drag his teeth along Edward's back, Carlisle reached over, fumbling in the nightstand for the lube. He tossed it on the bed and sat up, his knees on either side of Edward. He ran his hands up and down his husband's back, light first—almost tickling—and then pressing. "Do you know how beautiful you are? How perfect you are under my hands?"

He heard Edward's sharp intake of breath and saw him lick his lips before he answered. "You know, it occurs to me I've never really seen my back. Is it good as backs go? I've never really paid attention to backs in general."

Carlisle chuckled. He did adore this man. "There isn't much about you that isn't good, sweetheart." He drew his finger along Edward's spine. "I do like your back. You have such a nice shape." He scooted backward and pressed his palm to the small of Edward's back. "But this." He pulled Edward's pajama pants down, slowly revealing the double swells of his ass. "This I really like."

"That's because you're a pervert."

Carlisle snapped the lube open near Edward's ear, smirking when he shivered. "Well, I can't argue with that." He poured a liberal amount along Edward's crack and tossed it to the side, beginning to rub and tease his entrance. "I'm a dirty old man."

Edward gasped and arched up under his touch. "Luckily for you, I— Oh, oh!" He sucked in a breath. "I like dirty old men."

"That _is_ lucky for me," Carlisle agreed, working him with two fingers.

"Oh, God." Edward's hands tightened around the bedposts. "Please."

"Please what, baby?" Carlisle leaned down, peppering kisses to his neck and shoulders.

"Please. I want you. I need you."

Need. Such a simple and yet wholly appropriate word. Carlisle needed this man more than he ever knew it was possible to need someone. Edward was essential to his survival, his happiness, his very existence. And yes, right then, Carlisle needed nothing more than he needed to be a part of him.

He lined up his cock and pushed into Edward with three quick strokes, burrowing deep and swallowing the space between their bodies. He stretched his hands up, wrapping his fingers around Edward on the bedpost as he began to move in him, with him.

For minutes they spoke the lovers language—guttural grunts, soft sighs, and wanton moans. Carlisle buried his face at Edward's neck, his mouth open on him, teeth digging into his skin ever so slightly. Edward whispered his name and then shouted it. Carlisle felt Edward shake beneath him, finding his release in the friction of their bodies against the sheets. Carlisle followed an instant later.

He lay collapsed over his boy, his love, for minutes more, both of them breathing hard. Edward's body was so hot, but Carlisle didn't want to move. He wanted to stay wrapped in this superheated bubble with the man he loved forever.

But, Edward probably needed to breathe.

With a groan, Carlisle rolled off his husband onto his back. Edward hadn't moved. His hands were still stretched above his head, grasping the posts in a loose hold. Carlisle chuckled. He reached up and took his hand, bringing it down between them.

Edward turned his head, and Carlisle had to hold back a gasp. He recognized that look. More than that, he missed that look. It was a shadow of their past—Edward's blissed out face, his serene smile. It wasn't all the way there, but his was the face of a well taken care of boy floating in sub space.

Carlisle stroked his fingers through Edward's damp hair. His poor boy. He was so starving for a scene, for that release of control, that he clung to even that small morsel.

Cupping his cheek, Carlisle kissed him sweetly. "You're so good to me."

Edward wrinkled his nose. "I mean...I didn't do anything."

He looked so adorably perplexed, Carlisle laughed. He traced Edward's fine features. He kept trying to find the right words and arriving at the same one: beautiful. His husband was so beautiful. Not only physically. No. Edward had suffered as much as he had, had gone through the horror of losing their children, and yet he'd still been Carlisle's strength when he had none. Despite the fact Carlisle couldn't give him something he needed desperately, Edward had been the epitome of patience. This beautiful man who had given him such a beautiful life. Soon, they would have three beautiful children.

Looking at Edward, Carlisle couldn't help but believe there had to be something good about himself—something that made a man like his husband love and trust him so completely.

"I know there'll be more bad days. I just want you to know right now, even on the worst of them, I know I'm so lucky." He kissed his husband, brushing their noses. "I'm so, so lucky."

 _ **~0~**_

"We ruined your life, didn't we?"

Bella lowered her hand from where it had been thrown over her face. She grimaced at Edward then looked at Carlisle. "Your husband is dramatic. Good luck when these kids are teenagers. You'll have four of them to deal with."

Edward's lips quirked up, and a nervous jolt of energy shot through him. "Three teenagers at once. Christ, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Bella smiled then sighed. She reached behind her to rub the small of her back, and Edward clucked in sympathy.

They were at the doctor's office for another appointment. Bella had to tolerate more appointments than was typical because a triplets pregnancy was automatically considered high risk. Now, at twenty-two weeks, Bella's doctor had point-blank told her if she didn't take it easy, he would put her on strict bed rest. The babies were healthy, but a normal pregnancy was exhausting. Carrying triplets was exponentially so. Edward felt guilty knowing her body would never be the same again.

The doctor had left them alone in the room for a few minutes while he went to get some paperwork he'd neglected to bring. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Bella had cursed him out in every language she knew.

Now, she smiled as Edward took over rubbing her back. She leaned against him. "You didn't ruin my life. We had this discussion months ago. We all went over exactly what it meant. We all knew implanting three embryos meant we could possibly get three babies."

Bella cupped her hands over her enormous belly. She looked ready to pop even though she was barely halfway through her pregnancy. "I was never going to enjoy being pregnant," she said with a small smile. "This isn't magical for me. It hurts, and it aches, and now it's going to get in the way of how much time I was ready to take off work. But it's worth it. You're never going to convince me it isn't worth it."

She took Edward's hand and Carlisle's hand and put them both on her belly. Her smile turned more serene, and she put her hands over theirs. "I love them, you know. I do. I worry about them constantly. I worry about whether I'll be able to bring them to term, because I know how likely it is they'll be born early. I want to work more, but I worry about the stress I put on my body, not because of what it'll do to me—I'll recover—but because I don't know what it's doing to them. I worry about them, and I love them, because I love both of you so much."

She ran her fingers through their hair. "You boys are my family. When you hurt, I hurt. So no, goofball." She bopped Edward on the nose. "Being part of your happiness isn't ruining my life. I learned a long time ago life isn't a fairy tale. It's not supposed to come easy."

Carlisle reached out and took Edward's free hand in his. Emotion threatened to choke Edward then, as he looked from his best friend to his husband, his hand splayed over his three children—two sons and one daughter. His eyes stung with the beauty of the moment.

"But you know, you could consider naming the girl after me," Bella said, her voice teasing. "That does seem like the least you can do."

They both laughed and kissed her cheek.

~0~

Later that night, Carlisle found himself staring at the sonogram again, unable to take his eyes off it. He wondered at the family dynamics they would soon find themselves in the middle of. He and Edward were both only children. He wondered what it would be like to watch three children growing up together, experiencing each age, each milestone concurrently. He wondered what it would be like for his daughter growing up surrounded by boys. Would she be spoiled because her and Edward couldn't help but dote on her? Would she be rough and tumble being raised with two boys?

Carlisle frowned, and that was how Edward caught him.

His husband stood with his hands on his hips, eyebrow arched as he looked down on Carlisle. "What are you thinking about?"

Carlisle considered this, wondering where to start. "I was actually wondering if we were hypocrites."

Edward's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait...what?"

Carlisle sat up in his place on the couch, setting the sonogram on the side table. "Just some of the things we were talking about earlier. About what it'll be like raising two boys and a girl all at once."

They were lucky, they knew. Their little girl would have strong, positive female influences around them all the time. Esme and Emmett's wife, Rosalie, had helped them take care of Riley and Bree the year before. And they both suspected Bella would have a special connection with these children for the rest of her life. Even Garrett's wife, Kate, wasn't a stranger in their home

"I was considering gender," Carlisle said. "And the things we've gone through as gay men. Society told us from the day we were born that we were straight. We've had this discussion—how much easier it would be if society as a whole wouldn't insist on a heteronormative standard, but isn't that the same thing we're doing to our babies?

"I mean, we saw two penises on the sonogram today and assumed we have two sons and a daughter. And we'll raise them according to that theory, but it's not a fact. That might not be the case at all. It's so arrogant of us to do that to them—put that definition on them when they're not even born yet. I don't like the idea that our oppressive norms are something they're going to have to overcome if they aren't cisgendered."

Carlisle was startled out of his tirade by Edward's loud bark of a laugh. "Sweetheart, that is...way too heavy for a Friday night." He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Carlisle, that part we have. We celebrate our boys and our little girl, and if one of the boys tells us he wants to wear a dress, we'll be okay with that. And if our little girl wants to cut her hair short and asks us to call her John, we'll do that too. It's going to be fine."

Edward laughed again. "Oh, my God. You looked so serious, you scared me. Turns out you were just taking a page from my book—overthinking the strangest thing. Sweetheart, being that much of a loon is my job. The kids need you to be the steady, rational one."

Carlisle crossed his arms and pressed his lips together as he stared back at his husband. "You're laughing at me."

"Yeah, well. You deserve it."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yep. When you're being ridiculous, I get to have a giggle at your expense." Edward grinned at him brattily.

For three seconds, they stared at each other, Edward teasing and Carlisle pretending to be grumpy about it.

Then, Carlisle lunged.

Edward yelped, figuring out almost too late what was happening. He darted, but Carlisle had his arms around him. They both tumbled to the floor. Edward laughed, scrambling to get away, but Carlisle had the upper hand. It only took him a handful of moments to have Edward pinned, his torso over Carlisle's knee, his legs trapped by Carlisle's. "You think it's nice to laugh at your elders? Hmm?" Carlisle asked, struggling to keep his squirming husband in his grip.

"In this case?" Edward said, breathless as he clawed at the floor, bucking in Carlisle's arms. "Let me go."

"Oh, no, little boy." Carlisle shifted, bracing himself against the couch, trapping Edward's flailing arm by the wrist. "I have you now."

Caught up in the playfulness of the moment, Carlisle smacked Edward's ass several times in quick succession. Only when Edward gave a startled squeal—one that cut off in a moan—did Carlisle realize what he'd done. He released Edward instantly and scooted away just as Edward sat up, walking backward on his knees.

Carlisle stood up, not sure what to think or do. He wanted to apologize, but he kind of also didn't. For one thing, he knew for a fact Edward didn't mind. For another…

Edward's eyes were locked on his, the green gone dark with lust and desire. Carlisle could see something warring there, and knew exactly what Edward was thinking the next moment. Sitting up straight, keeping his eyes on Carlisle's, Edward locked his arms behind his back—the pose he'd always assumed as a sub awaiting instructions from his Dom.

Carlisle's heart beat out of control. His body went rigid. God, yes. Yes, of course this was what he wanted. His boy was so lovely like this, waiting to please and be pleased. And holy God, how much Carlisle had missed this. He didn't realize how much he'd missed it.

But could he let go? He was still so much in his own head, second guessing. He remembered the feel of the belt, the paddle, the fucking tawse in his hand, raining blow after blow, making Edward's pale skin glow bright red.

This wasn't about that. Not really. And besides, couldn't he remember everything else? Couldn't he remember Edward's release, the catharsis, the proud way he strutted around the house afterwards with his marks on full display? He wanted so much to let go, let himself be immersed in the unique closeness the scene brought on.

This was his husband. The love of his life, and the father of his children. He stared up at Carlisle, his eyes dark with love and total trust. Carlisle knew he would never hurt this man. He could never hurt him. It went against the very fiber of his being. And if Edward trusted that…

Carlisle swallowed hard and reached out with an unsteady hand to stroke Edward's hair. He let his hand skim down to cup Edward's cheek and brushed his thumb over his lip. His eyes still on Carlisle, Edward darted his tongue out to kiss and lick Carlisle's thumb.

"Baby boy," Carlisle whispered. "You're so pretty like this, do you know that?"

He took a step back and cleared his throat. "Stand up," he said, his tone commanding. He heard Edward suck in a sharp breath as he got to his feet.

Carlisle sat down on the couch, spreading his arms wide over the back of the sofa. He crossed his leg. "Strip."

Edward's lips quirked, but he did as he was told. He kept his eyes on Carlisle, his smirk becoming more confident as he unbuttoned his shirt. By the time he'd taken off his pants and underwear, his cock stood at attention.

He wasn't the only one. Carlisle shifted, putting both feet on the ground as he fought his own smile. Christ, his husband was a good-looking man. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and licked his lips. "Good boy," he said, his voice low now. "Come here."

Edward stepped forward. Carlisle rested his hand on the back of Edward's knee and devoured him with his eyes. He had the urge to lick and kiss every inch of his skin.

Edward laughed. "That tickles," he said, squirming as Carlisle brushed his fingers along the backs of his legs and traced the shape of his ass.

"Quiet," Carlisle said.

Edward's laugh fell. He ducked his head. "Sorry, Daddy."

It was all Carlisle could do to keep his grin from spreading out of control. He took Edward's hand and pulled him forward, guiding him to straddle his lap.

"Now," Carlisle said, resuming his light touch. "I don't want to hear a single sound from you, little one. Do you understand?"

Edward opened his mouth but caught himself. He closed it again and nodded.

"Good boy," he said, stroking Edward's back. He tilted his head, pressing slow, soft kisses along his chest. "If you can keep quiet." He swirled his tongue around Edward's nipple. "You'll be very handsomely rewarded."

It was strange. Carlisle had been the one to teach Edward it was okay to embrace the soft stuff, yet his head had gotten stuck in the more edgy area of their scene. He'd forgotten this. He'd forgotten about how he could make the world fade away, dwindle to just the two of them, with something as simple as touch. Nothing in the world mattered. Carlisle was focused on this one man.

He focused on Edward's breath—ragged now. His lips were parted, his tongue playing at the corner of his mouth. His skin was flushed. He writhed under Carlisle's fingers—taking advantage of the fact he hadn't been instructed to keep still.

He was focused on Edward's body—the way it responded to his touch. He tweaked Edward's nipples. Edward threw his head back, but caught the little cry before it could be vocalized.

He focused on Edward's needs. His boy's eyes had rolled into the back of his head. There was that look—the one he'd glimpsed here and there whenever Carlisle had taken the initiative, had been just the slightest bit kinky. This was what Edward craved, what he needed. It brought him peace, personal contentment, and incredible pleasure.

This was right and good.

Carlisle stood up, cupping his hands under Edward's ass. Edward wrapped his legs around him, and kissed his neck as he carried him upstairs. "You're a very good boy, baby," Carlisle said, laying him down on the bed.

He stood up, slowly taking his clothes off as he stared down at his breathless husband. He saw Edward's eyes linger on his cock, and had to stop himself from moaning when Edward licked his lips. Carlisle stroked himself. "Is this what you want, baby?"

Edward's eyes darted to his. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

Carlisle grinned. "So good, little one. You can speak."

"Please, Daddy. Please. I want you now."

Carlisle was over him in an instant, kissing him hard. "You want me inside you, baby?"

"Yes, please."

Carlisle sucked at his neck. "What my baby wants…"

He made love to his beautiful boy, promising with his body to love him and take care of him, no matter what their lives brought them next.

* * *

 **A/N: There will be an epilogue and at least one outtake, so I'll save my mushiness for later. Suffice it to say that JessyPT, Mina, Packy, Barburella, and songster are my life now. They make my docs a wonderful place.**

 **And you, my lovely readers, make my inbox a wonderful place. Our story is told. How are we feeling?**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm not ready either...**

* * *

Edward was out of breath. His face was hot, his cheeks flushed. He stood, shirtless and disheveled, staring down at the bed. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his finger.

"You...you three...are brats."

Hands on his hips, he stared down at his eight-month-old children and let out a huff. "I used to be good at this, you know that? I could get a squirmy baby dressed no problem. You three. You make me look bad. Daddy would say karma is coming back to bite me in the butt. I'm afraid I'm an even bigger brat than all of you combined, so I guess he has a point."

Ethan rolled his tongue, grinning up at Edward. Beside him, Izzi tried to roll over again. Beside her, Lucas did what Lucas did best—he looked pensive and curious.

Edward caught Izzi before she could roll over onto her brother. He laid her back down between the boys.

Ethan Jackson and Isabella Daria were twin terrors. They were his little mischief makers. Lucas Liam was quieter than the other two, and he often got teary when Edward or Carlisle seemed angry or irritated.

Edward leaned down and blew a raspberry against Lucas's tummy, gratified when his little boy giggled. The other two grunted, jealous and wanting in on the action. With a sigh, Edward got back to the wrestling match—trying to get his children dressed. Properly dressed. Slick pants and shirts for the boys; the cutest, fluffy dress for Izzi.

Just as he'd finally gotten all three children into their best dress, Ethan managed to get the nipple off the bottle Edward had attempted to distract him with, and he got formula all over himself and the bed.

Edward put a hand over his eyes, tamping down his frustration as Ethan began to whimper. It was his own fault for not checking that the bottle was securely closed. Edward blew out of breath, grabbed his son by the ankle, and pulled him forward. "Okay, bub. It's okay. I know. You're all cold and wet and sticky."

It took another fifteen minutes to get all three babies in their best—socks and shoes included. Then, he boxed Izzi in while he took her brothers downstairs. Setting them in the playpen, he hurried back upstairs for Izzi. He collapsed with her on the sofa and sighed. "I'm pooped." He lifted her a bit, so he could kiss her nose. "How does Daddy do this every day, huh?"

As they both had busy careers, the kids had a nanny—a friend of Bella's named Jacob Black. But back when they had Riley and Bree, Carlisle had taken a more predictable job that allowed him to be home most nights. Edward's schedule was more unpredictable, so it was usually Carlisle who had the kids cleaned and fed, and dinner on the table when Edward got home from his later shift. Nights that Edward wasn't working, they got the kids ready for bed together.

Tonight, though, Carlisle had a department meeting that meant Edward was on his own. He'd been determined to show some appreciation. He wanted to have the kids nicely dressed and dinner on the table when his husband got home.

No such luck. The kids were dressed in their cutest—wrinkled and already stained, what the heck? But dinner wasn't even defrosted, let alone anywhere near the table.

"Honey, I'm home."

Edward craned his head over the back of the couch. "You're late."

Carlisle leaned down and kissed his pouting lips, lingering until their daughter—who'd been bouncing up and down on Edward's lap, straining for Carlisle since he came in the door—grabbed a handful of his blond hair.

"Ouch." Carlisle extricated his hair from his daughter's fist carefully.

"Iz," Edward admonished. "Don't grab."

Carlisle lifted the baby girl up into his arms. "Look at you, Izzie girl. So pretty." He peppered kisses all over her face while she giggled.

"Don't worry." Carlisle stepped over to the playpen. Ethan was on his hands and knees, crying out. Lucas was sitting, waving his hands wildly and chanting in an increasingly loud series of 'uh's'. "Daddy has hugs for his boys, too." Carlisle transferred Izzi to Edward's waiting arms and leaned in to scoop up his baby boys.

Edward smiled. He would never get tired of watching Carlisle with their children. The joy on his husband's face and the happy, noisy chorus of three babies ecstatic at seeing their father again, were some of the best things in Edward's world.

He moved to Carlisle's side and wrapped an arm around his waist, completing their family unit. Carlisle turned his head over his shoulder, catching Edward's lips again for one more kiss.

"Sorry," Edward said. "I wanted to have the kids ready and I was trying to get around to dinner, but that didn't happen. The monsters ganged up on me."

Carlisle flashed a grin at him. "Well, I planned for that contingency."

"Oh, really?"

Carlisle angled his body and pointed a chin in the direction of the foyer. Sure enough, there were two bags of their favorite take out there. Edward laughed. "Ah. You planned for my inevitable failure. That's so sweet."

"Hey." Carlisle dipped and kissed him softly. "We've had pizza or cereal several nights on my watch."

Edward smiled, the small twist of self-recrimination easing almost as soon as it had begun. They made a good team, neither of them letting the other get down. Raising babies was tough. Raising three of them at once was insane.

A few minutes later, their monsters were in their high chairs. Edward laughed, watching the wide-eyed fascination on Ethan's face as he discovered mashed potatoes. He squished his hands in it and giggled.

Meanwhile, Iz studiously ignored the new mashed potatoes, preferring the small pile of mixed berries. One of Edward's favorite things was watching the kids master dexterity, picking up the small, rolling berries and moving them to their mouths.

Lucas was by no means neat, but he was tidier than his siblings. He took a pinch of the mashed potatoes, looked at his fingers dubiously, and—ever brave—darted his tongue out to taste. He made a wet, "mmm," noise and took a bigger, though still careful, bite.

Beside Edward, Carlisle slung an arm over his closest shoulder. He raised his hand, gazing at Edward adoringly as he brushed his fingers over his cheek. "What a beautiful family I have."

Warmth flooded through Edward's chest. He turned his head to kiss Carlisle's fingertips. "They're wonderful." He leaned in and sucked Carlisle's earlobe into his mouth, smiling when his husband jumped and moaned. "We should get rid of them for a few hours sometime soon though."

Carlisle put his hand on Edward's leg and rubbed his thigh. Sex was doable. Finding time to slip into scene, though, could be complicated. "Soon," he promised.

 _ **~0~**_

Esme hosted a get together in late spring. It occurred to Carlisle, as he looked around her sprawling lawn, that a lot of friendships had arisen in the wake of his and Edward's personal crisis.

In the early days, when they were barely functioning, Esme and Bella had formed a close friendship—one of the reasons Bella had been able to step into the role of disciplinarian after Carlisle had gone into his tailspin. But more than that, Esme had also become good friends with Emmett and Rosalie, and Garrett and Kate.

The triplets were in heaven. Carlisle was sure they thought this whole party had been thrown specifically for them. They were always a natural draw no matter where they went, so they were used to attention. Here, they were surrounded not only by friendly strangers but by plenty of people they were familiar with. Carlisle would swear they were milking it.

"Shoot."

Esme's disgruntled voice drew Carlisle's attention away from his children to his best friend. She looked somewhat flustered, which was unusual. Esme was the epitome of a perfect hostess—all grace and ease.

"What's going on?"

She smiled at him, game face back in place. "I must be losing my touch in my old age. There aren't enough napkins by a long shot. I really could use another veggie tray for safety, and I'm out of my favorite wine completely." She grimaced and patted her side in an absent, distracted way. "I could ask my husband to bring those things, but he won't be back for another two hours."

Carlisle chuckled. "I can make a run for you."

Esme brightened. "Would you?"

"Of course. It's no problem. Let me just make sure Edward is okay with the kids."

A curious look came over Esme's face. "Why don't you take Edward with you?"

Carlisle's eyebrows shot up. "I can't do that," he said, a little mistified that she would even suggest such a thing.

Getting out of the house with three babies was always a production. There was no way Carlisle and Edward would even think about running a simple errand together.

Esme laughed. "I'd understand if you didn't feel comfortable, but look around. The kids are being well taken care of at the moment. I don't think any of them has been in your arms once since you walked in the door."

That much was true. They'd been passed from arm to arm. When they weren't on someone's lap, they were tumbling around on the grass with Esme's friendly, patient beagle puppy while the adults around them cooed.

Bella, who'd been listening in, came and wrapped a friendly arm around Esme's shoulders. "I'll take official responsibility for them if that makes you feel better."

It did make Carlisle feel considerably better. A doting and attentive mother, Esme had never had a problem playing hostess and managing her own children. Bella was close to the triplets. As she'd promised when she was pregnant with them, she loved them. Carlisle knew he could trust not only both these women but the rest of his friends to care for his children.

"It's only a few minutes," Esme said. "When was the last time you and Edward had even a few minutes alone?"

Carlisle's answering smile was sardonic. Minutes alone were few and far between.

"Go on," Bella said.

Deciding not to look a gifthorse in the mouth, Carlisle cast one more glance at the children—Lucas was fast asleep in Rosalie's arms, Ethan and Izzi were entertaining Kate and Garrett—before grabbing his husband by the hand.

"This feels almost like a date," Edward said when they were at the store. They were being a little love-sick—more handsy and almost giddy than usual.

"I know we didn't get much of a dating experience, but I'd like to think I could do better than this, trips to San Francisco aside."

Edward took his hand and swung it playfully. "I don't know. I think it's got romantic potential."

Carlisle arched an eyebrow. "Oh, this I have to hear. A supermarket shopping date?"

"You have to be creative, see? You bring a guy to the supermarket and tell him that you're going to cook him a fantastic dinner. Anything his heart desires. Shop the outside aisles, right? You start out in produce and decide on a side. It'd be nice—the two of you bantering about the merits of the different kinds of lettuce. Finding out about your abhorrent love of Brussels sprouts."

Carlisle laughed because he remembered that day, so many years ago, when he made dinner for Edward and found out about his absolute and irrational hatred of Brussels sprouts. "Imagine the horror when your date figured out the horrible things you do to broccoli and cauliflower."

Edward loved cooking with both vegetables. The way he prepared them, however, negated them as healthy choices. Carlisle had often reminded him he was a doctor, and he should know better.

"Anyway. You start at the produce section is the point," Edward said. "Then you move on to protein. Find a nice hunk of meat." Edward waggled his eyebrows, leaning in to speak directly into Carlisle's ear. "Flirt a little about how much you like sausage."

Carlisle rolled his eyes, but his lips tugged up at the corners despite his best effort. He pecked Edward's mouth in a quick kiss. "Brat."

Edward just grinned. "You pick up a good bread—something nice and crusty—and you end up here." He gestured around them."Wine. A good, romantic dinner always includes wine. Playful wine. Sweet wine. Maybe something with chocolate undertones." He leaned closer again. "Something that will taste delicious when I lick it off your tongue."

Carlisle pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stifle a groan. Before he could figure out how to suggest a quickie in the car—was it even possible with three carseats—a tiny voice drew his attention.

"Hi."

Carlisle looked down, and he nearly fainted. He heard Edward's startled cry and knew he wasn't imagining what he was seeing.

It was Bree. Their daughter. Their little baby Bree.

She was changed, of course. She'd lost most of her chubby, rounded, babyness. Her features were closer to a child's now. Her dark hair was long, her face cut leaner, and her eyes more expressive, but this was Bree.

She tilted her head, looking at them curiously. "Do you want to play?" she asked brightly. "You look nice. Not like a bad mens."

Edward was squeezing Carlisle's hand so hard, he'd be surprised if his bones didn't crack, but that hardly mattered. His head spun, and his eyes stung and he stared at the little girl. He'd forgotten how to speak. He'd forgotten how to breathe.

"H-h-hey, sweetie," Edward said. His voice was a strangled wisp of sound. Carlisle heard him swallow. "Yeah. We're nice. I think."

"Bree!"

A frantic shout had the little girl looking over her shoulder. It sounded like the person was several aisles away. It was a woman's voice, but then another joined her. "Bree!"

A little boy's voice.

Carlisle was certain he was going to faint.

"Uh oh," Bree said. "That's my mommy." She gasped rather theatrically and covered her mouth with her hands. "I wasn't supposed to walk away. Oh no."

Finally, Carlisle found his voice. "You'd better get back to her," he said, his tone numb.

Bree nodded. "Yeah, okay." She took a few steps away then paused, turned back and flung her arms around Edward's waist. She did the same with Carlisle. He had enough time to press his hand against her small head, feeling her soft hair, before she let him go. "Bye, Mr. Mens," she said and darted in the opposite direction.

Edward whimpered and took an involuntary step forward. Carlisle, still hearing the somewhat frantic voice of Bree's Mommy and Riley—it had to be Riley—around the corner, grabbed Edward by the arm and hauled him backward, out of sight. Just in time. Bree reappeared in the arms of a woman with wild, red hair. At their side was not the little boy Carlisle expected, but a big boy of about eight years old.

Like his sister, Riley had gotten taller and skinnier. He was in need of a haircut. From where they were standing, Carlisle could see his achingly familiar, patented Riley scowl as he glared at…

His mother. His biological mother, Victoria.

Carlisle and Edward shared a flabbergasted look before they returned their eyes to the children.

"You have to watch her, Mom. You have to be careful," Riley was admonishing his mother. "She's little, and she likes people. You have to watch her."

"Riley." Victoria, still holding Bree close to her, sighed. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Bud, I'm trying. I'm really trying. You see that, right?"

He remained silent, still scowling stubbornly at her. She sighed again and put a hand to his shoulder. "Things are better. We're getting better, aren't we? I know I'm not the best mom in the world, but I'm not the worst, right?"

Riley looked down, and he shrugged. Even from their vantage point, Carlisle could see the pain that flitted across Victoria's face. He tensed, wondering if she would lash out.

She didn't. "I know I have a lot to make up for, Rye. But maybe you can cut me like the slightest bit of slack?"

"Riley, Mommy loves us," Bree said, her arms around her mother's neck as she looked down on her brother.

He grunted. "You can put her down. I'll hold her hand. I'll help take care of her."

"Okay." Victoria set Bree on her feet, and Riley took her hand. After a heartbeat, he gave his mother's waist a quick squeeze too. Victoria smiled and ruffled his hair. "Okay."

"We need to go," Carlisle whispered.

Edward nodded wordlessly. Together, they turned, shopping cart forgotten, and left the store.

For the second time in his life, Carlisle drove away from his children in a daze. It was different this time for so many reasons. Terrible, and yet…

They got back to Esme's house and went inside. They must have looked as ashen as Carlisle felt, because both Esme and Bella were all over them the instant they reappeared in the backyard. Carlisle had no idea what he said. Somehow, they managed to get across that they were fine; they just needed their children, and they needed to be alone.

Carlisle checked each of the babies' car seats three times before he would allow himself to believe they were safe. He was paranoid, he realized. It felt as though someone or something was going to snatch these children away from him, too. Edward must have felt the same way, because he kept looking over his shoulder and then patting the babies, examining them as though he expected there had to be something wrong.

It took forever, but finally, they were home. They took their babies upstairs and got into bed—Carlisle and Edward forming a protective wall around their three miraculous children. The babies were quiet—subdued by the atmosphere and tired from the party. There was little noise in the room except for the occasional whimper of a worried baby and the responding, "shh, shh, shh," as Carlisle or Edward patted their tummies and stroked their hair to get them to settle.

It was a long time before Carlisle found the words. "We would have lost them anyway."

When Riley and Bree were in their care, there had always been the chance that Victoria would get her act together and get them back. The children hadn't yet been up for adoption—just very close to adoption, and because they had no other family willing to take them in, Carlisle and Edward would have been the first people the agency looked to. But there had been that slim chance that Victoria would make a turn for the better. That she would stop missing appointments, and she would find a way to comply with every part of the reunification plan.

She'd done it. The children would have been placed back in their custody.

"I don't know how to feel," Edward said.

Carlisle fell silent, considering that as he wound his finger through Ethan's curls.

It would have been better to lose them to Victoria. It was the violence of the act, the way they had gone to the agency trusting everything could work out only to leave with empty arms. It was Riley's screams and Bree's sobs haunting them for months that turned into years. It was having to wonder if he was a monster, a man who had no business being around defenseless children. Yes, losing them would have broken his heart, but those wounds would have healed clean.

Carlisle's eyes landed on each of his children in turn.

No. That wasn't the hand he was dealt. Yes, he and Edward had been through hell and back. Yes, he had scars. He was the owner of a psyche that had been disfigured in youth only to be mangled again in adulthood. Yes, Edward had, effectively, lost his parents. Yes, they'd had to rebuild their relationship around the ruins of the people they'd been.

But how could Carlisle complain he'd been dealt a crappy hand when he had so much? He had so many wonderful friends who'd rallied around them, done so much for him. Bella's body bore permanent physical evidence of what she'd done for them, and she'd done it gladly. She'd given them three healthy children born of a difficult pregnancy. Carlisle was a father—legally and otherwise.

And he had Edward.

Carlisle reached out and cupped his husband's cheek, marveling. If this whole disaster had taught Carlisle anything, it was that he never had to go through a crisis alone. Edward had shown him with every fiber of himself, his amazing depth of love and devotion, that he would stand by Carlisle's side, fighting his battles with him. They were still finding each other, testing and pushing the limits of the physical relationship they shared. These days, his precious, bratty baby boy was as sated and happy as his beloved husband and partner. They weren't exactly who they'd been before, but they were happy where they were in every aspect of their relationship.

"I think we're lucky," Carlisle said.

Edward raised a brow. "Lucky?" He sounded dubious, but he didn't argue.

"It was the one question we had left, right?" Carlisle asked. He carefully scooped Ethan up, cradling the sleeping baby against his chest as he scooted closer.

"What happened to our kids?" Edward said by rote. Catching on to what Carlisle was doing, he draped Izzi over his chest and scooted.

"We know. Better or worse, we know," Carlisle said. He and Edward worked together until their sides were pressed up against one another, baby Lucas straddling both of them.

"She's not good enough. Riley was still angry. He—" Edward began, but Carlisle hushed him.

"It's better than not knowing." He rested his arm over his children's backs. "She loves them, and she's trying. It's more than we could have hoped to know."

Edward sighed. He rested his arm over the babies's bottoms, below Carlisle's. He moved his head the last inch to kiss him. "You're right. There's peace in that."

"There is."

That was exactly what Carlisle felt—at peace. His babies were warm, safe, and happy in his arms. His husband was still there by his side, smiling at him now, letting this unexpected bit of closure ease some of the grief they would carry forever.

They had troubles, but everyone did. They were minor compared to the good in his life. Carlisle had more than anyone should ask for, and he was happy.

 **~The End~**

 **A/N: I… don't know why I'm so attached to these boys. I've never been one to believe in sequels and series. I tell a story, and then I move on. But these boys… I don't even know. *dramatic sigh***

 **Many thanks to JessyPT, Barburella, Songster, MoH, Packy, and Mina. I love you guys muchly. And many thanks to all of you for taking yet another journey with me.**

 **I do have intentions for a gratuitous, "fictional" (doubly fictional?) threesome, but we all know how my intentions turn out 7/10 times. But then again, I'm attached to these kids.**

 **Mwah. Catch you next time, duckies. Thank you so much.**


End file.
